


Made of Love

by wholocked_Pinkie_in_theImpala



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, Minor Body Horror, Minor Violence, Steven Universe References, i explain things so you're good, its a little all over the place, prinxiety if you squint - Freeform, this au is... something, you dont have to watch the show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-07-27 18:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 97,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16225058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholocked_Pinkie_in_theImpala/pseuds/wholocked_Pinkie_in_theImpala
Summary: When Virgil decided to help a teenage boy late one night, he did not expect his life to take such a drastic turn. He may have had weird occurrences before, but this… this was something else. From magic to fairy tales, to things beyond rational comprehension, Virgil must now navigate this strange, new world with his friend Roman.And they may get more than they bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

Virgil didn’t need this in his life. Sure, he might have asked for it a little when he decided to become a bartender, but that didn’t mean he wanted  _ this _ . This was where he drew the line.

“You have to hide me!”

The boy couldn’t have been more than seventeen. He glanced at the door like whoever was after him could burst through it at any second. Whatever was happening to him, he was terrified of it and part of Virgil didn’t want to get involved.

“Are you okay, kid?” Roman spoke before Virgil could.

Roman tended to hang out at the bar a lot. Not that he drank a whole bunch or anything, he was a close friend of Virgil's. Well, as close as two people could get when all they did was talk about problems and boys over a countertop.

“Please, there's no time.” The boy glanced back at the door again. “Let me hide behind the counter. As soon as it sees that I'm not here, it'll leave.”

Virgil latched onto a very important detail. “‘It’?” He muttered under his breath. 

“I think maybe you should listen to him, Virge,” Roman said. “Humor him.”

Virgil frowned at his conscience as well as Roman’s insistence. “Fine. Get in here.” He lifted up the counter entrance for the kid to get through. “Don't tell anyone I did this.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.” He dove in and wedged himself in a gap between the floor and a shelf.

As soon as he did that, the door to the bar swung open. All sound fell still for a moment. The very aura this person was giving off caused every patron in the bar to be set on edge.

He was a big, hulking man that honestly didn't look all that human. Something was wrong about him. Perhaps the way he moved -- stiff and near robotic -- made a primal alarm bell to go off in everyone's head.

“Have you seen a boy?” The man asked Virgil. His voice didn't sound natural. It sounded as if the words were coming out for the first time.

Virgil, on pure instinct, moved in front of the hiding boy. “This isn't exactly a daycare.” He crossed his arms to appear ticked off despite the fact he was trembling. “Kids aren't allowed in here, pal. And I don't think you should be looking for any if they aren't yours.”

The man narrowed his eyes and Virgil felt his heart drop. But he left without another word.

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright, I think we’re good.” He moved out of the way to let the kid out.

“Oh my gosh thank you so much.” He crawled out of his hiding spot. “You have no idea how grateful I am.”

“Can we at least get a name if you're so grateful?” Roman asked with a raised brow.

“Oh!” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m Thomas. Sorry about that.” He rubbed his arm. “Anyway, thank you so much, mister…”

“Virgil. Just -- it’s Virgil.” He waved his hand to dismiss it.

“And I’m Roman, in case you wanted to know.” He gave a two-fingered salute.

Thomas grinned. “Thank you both so much, but I should probably get going.” He started inching his way to the exit of the counter. “I won’t forget this.”

“Oh, hey, Thomas,” Roman called out before the kid could leave the building.

Thomas stopped and looked back.

“If you ever happen to be chased by someone again, you probably shouldn't go into another bar.”

Thomas gave a thumbs-up. “You got it.” Then he was gone.

Roman and Virgil watched the door for a few more seconds, half expecting the kid to run right back in with another problem. When he didn’t, they both allowed themselves to relax.

“I need just, like, straight vodka after that.” Roman placed his head on the counter.

“You and me both,” Virgil muttered.

Two days after, Virgil ran into that same boy again walking to the store. Or, more appropriate,  _ he _ ran into Virgil.

They both fell to the ground from the sheer force of Thomas’s momentum. He lifted himself off of Virgil and gazed down at him in surprise before it broke out into an ecstatic grin. Virgil, on the other hand, was grimacing. He didn’t exactly want to see this kid again.

“Virgil!” Thomas cheered. “I never thought I’d see you again.” His smile was radiant. In an irritating sort of way. “What are the chances?”

“Yeah, fantastic.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Can you, uh, get off me now?” He didn’t like how compromising their position might have looked to outsiders.

“Oh! Right.” He flushed. “Sorry.” He picked himself up and extended a hand toward Virgil.

Virgil stared at it before deciding to play nice and take it. He could have yelled at the kid for pushing him to the floor in the first place, but that didn’t seem right. He  _ did _ have a conscience (despite what other people might want to believe).

“So why were you running mach ten down the sidewalk?” Virgil shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets.

Thomas’s expression twisted into one of horror. “Oh no.”

“‘Oh no’?” Virgil didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean ‘oh no’? Is there someone after you again?”

“Something like that.”

“ _ You _ .”

Both Virgil and Thomas stiffened at the voice. It had that same empty tone as the strange man yesterday, though this one was feminine. Its owner had a blank expression but her eyes showed a restrained fury. The way she moved was also similar to the man -- not smooth and not like any human.

Virgil found himself pulling Thomas behind him. He had no idea why his first instinct was to protect him. Again.

The woman got straight in Virgil’s face. “Move.”

He was tempted to, but he could feel Thomas’s hands trembling as they held on to the back of his hoodie. “Uh, no.”

“My fight is not with you.” Her expression change was slight but noticeable. It might have even passed for upset. “All I need is the boy.”

“That’s not happening.” Virgil had no idea where this bravery was coming from. He wasn’t known for being the most courageous guy around. Most of the time he ran from conflict or avoided the problem until it went away.

The woman stared at Virgil, not saying anything. Her eyes revealed nothing of her inner thoughts. If she was annoyed or angered she didn’t show it. It was kind of making Virgil a little unnerved.

But she turned and left without another word.

Thomas heaved a sigh of relief. He peeked over Virgil’s shoulder at the retreating woman. “Oh, man those things are really easy to sway.”

Virgil furrowed his brows. “Those things?”

“Anyway, gotta go now. Thanks again.” Thomas took off before Virgil could properly question him.

Virgil spent the rest of the day thinking about it. It was too odd to let go; Thomas called both of those strangers “things”. He didn’t refer to them as humans. They may not have acted like humans but they still were, weren’t they? There wasn’t anything else they could be. There  _ couldn’t _ have been anything else.

Later, at the bar, Roman didn't come in at his usual time. He almost always came in at the same time whenever Virgil was working. On top of being late, he also didn’t talk much. Which was a surprise in itself. Sometimes Roman couldn’t ever shut up. He tended to start all their conversations.

Virgil had been tempted to see what was up, but he never got the chance. Friday nights were the busiest, after all. He only got a couple words in with Roman before it was time to close.

Whenever Virgil had to close the bar, Roman stayed behind to help. He had let it slip once that he hated being in the bar all alone so Roman offered to stick around. It became a thing after that. _Technically_ , they weren’t supposed to do it, but the manager was never around to see.

“So, uh,” Roman spoke as if he was unsure of his words. He stared down at the barstool for a few seconds before deciding to flip it onto the counter. “I ran into Thomas again yesterday.”

Virgil almost dropped the bottle in his hands. “You did?”

“Yeah, he, uh, seemed to have the same problem.” He flipped another stool. “I ended up having to punch a guy. I think? It was a little crazy.”

“Well, another crazy thing is --” Virgil locked the cabinet -- “I saw him today.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. There was a woman after him and I just kind of hid him behind me until she left.”

Roman set down the stool he had just picked up. “What? It was that easy for you?” He groaned. “That’s so unfair. I had to almost fight someone to get them to leave and all you did was stand there.”

Before Virgil could respond, there was commotion at the door. The handle jiggled and it sounded like someone kept pushing on it until it swung open. Two people stumbled in. One slammed the door shut and barred it with their body. The other put their hands on their knees as if they ran a very far distance.

“That’s like the fifth one this week,” came the out of breath, rather familiar voice.

The one at the door began chastising the smaller one. Their voice wasn’t familiar at all. It didn’t sound angry as much as it was cross -- like a mother who had started explaining a rule she already said many times before. “And always tell me where you’re going. Honestly, Thomas, how am I supposed to save you if I don’t know --” His eyes glanced toward the bar. “Don’t know…” His eyes widened. “Oh dear.”

Thomas lifted his head and broke out into a grin. “Roman! Virgil! What are you two still doing here?”

“Thomas,” the stranger hissed. “I thought you said this place was unoccupied.”

“Oh, uh.” He chuckled nervously. “Guess I was wrong?”

The door moved as if someone on the other side tried to push it open. The stranger squeaked and pushed further into it.

“Get them out!”

Thomas jumped and ran over to Roman and Virgil. “Is there like a back room or something?” He jumped again when the door slammed shut.

“Uh, yeah, but --" Virgil was cut off.

“Great. Let's go.” Thomas grabbed Roman’s arm and started pulling him toward the back of the bar.

Virgil didn't move until he saw a hand try to hold the door open from the other side. The fingertips looked as if they had been dipped in ink. He left through the opposite end and ran in front of the other two to show them where to go. 

The farthest room was the storage. It was a straight shot from the main bar, but it wouldn't have been as noticeable in the dark. Virgil had already locked it. It was a decision he immediately regretted as soon as he heard the door burst open and he couldn't tell which key was which in the dark. It was like a scene straight out of a horror movie.

“Shine a light,” Virgil hissed.

Roman pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward Virgil’s hands. The other continued to struggle until he came across the one that had a smear of white paint on it. He shoved it in the lock and they all rushed inside once the door had opened.

“What the hell is going on?” Virgil pressed his back against the door. “Who was that? What were we running from?”

“Okay, uh, I know this seems like a tense situation,” Thomas started. “But maybe we should take a breather.”

Virgil gaped at him. “We just shoved ourselves into a room with only one exit. Something literally  _ broke _ the door to get in. How can we be sure your little friend out there isn’t already dead?”

“Virgil,” Roman snapped.

Thomas looked hurt for a moment or two, making Virgil regret his outburst, but it twisted into a defiant pout. “He knows what he’s doing. He’s done this a million times before.”

“Who is he?” Roman asked. He shot Virgil a slight glare.

“Um, I guess you could call him my legal guardian?” He gave them an unsure smile. “He’s kind of been taking care of me for most of my life. His name’s Picani. Emile Picani -- er,  _ Doctor _ Emile Picani. He hates when you leave that part out…”

Roman furrowed his brows in concern. “Is he the only family you have?”

Thomas was taken aback for a moment. He gave each of them a look, as if to asses that they could be trusted with this information, then nodded.

Now Virgil felt like an asshole. He didn’t mean to shout at this kid about his only family member being dead. He needed better control of his words. “Thomas, I --”

The three jumped at the knocking on the door, but Thomas grinned when he recognized it as the famed “shave and a haircut”. He moved to open the door, but Virgil stopped him.

“You’re just going to open the door without knowing who’s on the other side?” Virgil did  _ not _ understand this kid.

“Trust me on this,” Thomas stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s Picani.”

Virgil looked to Roman for any input. Roman just shrugged so Virgil looked back to Thomas. The kid was so sure of himself. With great reluctance, Virgil stepped out of the way. He didn’t think it was a good idea, but they had nothing to lose. They were trapped in here without any other means of escaping.

Thomas gave the appropriate response to the knock before opening the door. Sure enough, there stood the stranger that had barged in earlier. He beamed at Thomas, making him look more like a little kid than an adult. He couldn’t have been older than thirty. In Virgil’s experience, that was a bit young to be raising a seventeen-year-old. But the one thing that stuck out the most was how tall he was; he was the tallest person in the vicinity.

“Hey, kiddo,” Picani chirped. “You doing okay?”

Thomas grinned up at him. “Yup.”

Picani moved his eyes over to the other two people in the room. His smile shrunk a bit, but it wasn’t any less friendly. “Would you care to introduce me to your friends, Thomas?”

“Oh! Right.” He spun around to face them. He motioned to each of them as he introduced who was who. “This is Virgil. He works here at the bar. And that’s Roman. They’re the two that helped me that one time.”

“You mean those three times?” Picani put his hands on his hips. “Because you decided to sneak out while I was working?”

Thomas cringed.

Picani shook his head like a disappointed parent. He sighed before bringing back his cheery exterior. “Anyway, thank you both for helping him out. I really appreciate it. And, uh, Virgil,” he ducked his head in embarrassment, “I’ll pay for any damage that may or may not have been caused. That’s not to say that there was -- just that there might be.”

Virgil didn’t know how to respond to that. Honestly, he was too shocked to find out that Picani was alive… and a huge dork. When he first came in with Thomas he held such authority. It might have been for that situation alone because now Virgil couldn’t believe they were the same person.

“You’re welcome and everything,” Roman stepped into the conversation. “But can we get an explanation to what was going on?”

Thomas turned to look at Picani. Picani grinned like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. “Oh, um, well,” he stuttered. “It was just kind of like, uh, a thing. Not a big deal or anything, of course. It was taken care of. Sometimes bad people do bad things. And, uh, Thomas please help me I’m not good at lying.”

“It’s kinda hard to explain.” Thomas turned back around. “If we told you the truth you might not believe us.”

“That sounds like the beginning to every adventurous journey I’ve ever heard of.” Roman eyed the two. “So either you’re the chosen ones or we  _ really _ shouldn’t believe you because you’re both insane.”

“Well I don’t care about that,” Virgil cut in. “I want answers. Why have you been calling those people ‘things’? What was it that broke in? Why have Roman and I continued to run into you these past three days?”

“That last one is just a coincidence,” Thomas chuckled nervously. “I guess if you really wanna know --”

Picani put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Can I talk to you alone for a moment?”

Thomas hesitated but ended up agreeing. They stepped outside with the door swinging behind them, though it didn’t close all the way. Roman and Virgil gave each other the same confused expression. This was a bit much to handle in a day -- even for them. They both couldn’t resist their curiosity and decided to listen in to the conversation. They earned that much, didn’t they?

Though the conversation sounded… odd. They had to strain to hear due to the others’ whispering, but they could tell something was a little off. There was Thomas’s voice convincing Picani to tell them about everything. Nothing weird there. He sounded like a normal teenage boy begging to do something that might not have been the best idea. Picani, on the other hand, sounded different. It was like he was talking to himself  _ and _ Thomas.

If Roman and Virgil didn’t know any better, they would have assumed three people were talking. But that couldn’t have been right. No one else was out there. Picani himself said that the other intruder had been taken cared of.

As they tried to figure out what was going on, the door pushed open. Thomas walked in with a huge grin while Picani appeared indifferent. Virgil and Roman acted like they didn’t do anything wrong.

“Per Thomas’s request,” Picani started. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil gets some answers, dinner, and maybe a little more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Roman and Virgil straight up discuss how to murder someone in the beginning. So. Y'know

After making sure that the bar was (officially) closed, they all headed out. Virgil never drove to work since the bar was within walking distance of his apartment, so he went with Roman in his car. It made him realize that they never talked much outside of the bar setting. There was very little they knew about each other's personal lives.

It wasn't awkward or anything.

“So,” Virgil decided to start, in as awkward a voice as possible. “What are you thinking? About Picani and Thomas, I mean. I know what you're normally thinking and it's usually complaints.”

“Well there's no complaints here,” Roman answered. “We know, somewhat, about Thomas already. He's just an eager kid. And Dr. Picani seems nice.”

“You don't think he's an ax murderer or anything?”

“Virgil, I'd think  _you_  were an ax murderer before I thought  _he_  was.” He turned to look at the passenger's seat after he stopped at the light.

Virgil smirked. “How do you know I'm not?”

“Considering I'm not dead yet, I think it's safe to say you're not.” Roman smirked right back and turned toward the road.

Virgil scoffed. “I could just be waiting for the right time.” He decided to look out the window. In all honesty, he was glad to be in the car rather than outside. The streets were scary at night and even though it wasn't a far walk, he always dreaded going home after work.

“I've helped you close the bar on numerous occasions. We were alone together. After hours. Prime killing time, don't you think?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “People have seen us together. They always know you're the last one out whenever I'm closing. I'd be a prime suspect if I murdered you then.”

Roman scoffed. “You just have it all figured out, don't you?”

“I've often planned people's murder as a mental exercise.”

“Alright, easy, Sherlock.”

After that, it spiraled into an argument about the best way to murder someone. It might have been concerning if anyone were to hear them, but they didn't have to worry about someone listening in. They were able to plan -- perhaps a little too comfortably -- the perfect murder. The issues of disposing of the body and evidence had been worked out and the least bloody method had been discussed. There wasn't anyone in mind, but sometimes inspiration strikes in the weirdest ways. Maybe they'd keep it for future reference.

It took ten-ish minutes to get to Thomas and Picani’s house. Roman and Virgil noticed, as they continued to drive, that they were heading toward a place that wasn’t as crowded. It was the more “rural” part of the city. But to be fair, their city was a tiny step up from a town.

The house was a little way up the mountain. Not at the top but not near the bottom. As with most houses on a mountain, the neighbors weren’t close. In fact, it didn’t seem as if any other house was around. This house stood alone. It towered at two stories with what could be seen of a large yard. The outside was rather basic; wood panelings with a few large windows. Though that’s not to say the house wasn’t impressive. From the perspective of two guys that lived in apartments, this house was the equivalent to a castle.

“I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous in my life,” Roman muttered. “This is a perfect landscape. Imagine if the sun was setting -- oh, that would be even better. I wish I had my camera on me.” He parked the car in the driveway behind Picani.

Virgil noted the fact there was a balcony  _and_  an upper deck. “I wonder how they got this place.” He clicked the red button on the buckle. “A single guardian and a kid? There’s no way they could afford this on their own.”

“Maybe they inherited money from Thomas’s rich uncle after he was tragically murdered by his wife for carrying out several love affairs. To which she covered up by saying it was suicide and sending his body out to sea on his boat to sink.”

Virgil paused in getting out of the car to stare at Roman. “That was… oddly specific. Are you hiding something from me, Ro?”

All Roman did was wink in response.

Ahead of them, Thomas stepped out of Picani’s car with a huge grin. He waved at them like an eager child. Picani looked at him in amusement.

“That kid has too much energy,” Virgil grumbled.

“Oh, lighten up, dark-and-dreary.” Roman nudged Virgil’s shoulder. “You’re gonna get your answers -- and free food. Isn’t that better than being alone in your apartment at this late hour?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “That just adds to the list of questions.” He got out of the car before Roman could nag him.

Thomas bounced around like an excited puppy. It was clear he wanted to tell them whatever it is he had to tell them. Or maybe he just liked the company. Regardless, he was way too happy for one in the morning.

Picani led the little group up the stairs to the front door. Thomas chatted with Roman about how happy he was that they were staying for dinner.

“So, uh,” Virgil started as Picani unlocked the door. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a therapist,” he answered with a smile.

Virgil raised a brow. “How long have you been a therapist for?” Unless he was wrong, the age Picani looked couldn’t have meant he was a therapist for long. Doctorates tended to take a while to get.

Picani paused with his hand on the doorknob. A frown flickered on his face for a brief moment before he returned it to a polite smile. “A while.”

If Virgil’s eyebrow could have gone any higher it would have. “You seem a little young to be a therapist for a while.”

Picani opened the door. “Thank you.” He stepped inside and held the door open for everyone. “Thomas, please show them to the dining room.”

Thomas flipped on the light switch as they walked. It revealed the spacious living room in all its glory. The walls were white with a few pictures scattered in various locations. There were sliding glass doors that led to the large deck outside. Above it, were wide windows with a perfect view of the sky. The furniture gave the impression of it being plucked straight from a magazine and dropped right into the house.

Virgil felt very out of place. Everything looked so nice and clean, and there he was walking through it in his grubby work clothes. The high ceiling made him feel tiny, the wood floors made him feel loud. It didn’t seem as if he should have been invited here.

Roman, on the other hand, seemed elated in the presence of such luxury. He matched Thomas’s excited energy by the time they sat down at the dining table.

The dining room itself was rather small and was separated from the kitchen by a breakfast bar. The table had the typical six chairs, but it was obvious four of them were never used. When Virgil sat down it felt brand new.

“I hope you two don’t mind some reheated spaghetti,” Picani chirped from the kitchen. “It was supposed to be eaten a few hours ago, but we ran into some… complications.” He gave a pointed look toward Thomas.

Thomas beamed like a child feigning innocence.

“What were you two doing out so late?” Roman asked. It made Virgil stare at him in shock, having not expected him to start with questions. Especially since he seemed less interested. When Roman noticed he gave him another wink.

“Well I was out with a friend --”

“A friend you shouldn’t have seen in the first place,” Picani murmured.

“-- and we were out a little later than usual.” Thomas continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted at all. “I ran into some complications getting home, I called Picani, and then we ended up running around town for a bit.”

“What were you running for?” Virgil added. “Or from?”

“Let’s save the questions for now,” Picani urged. “Don’t want to jump right into it, do we?”

Virgil wanted to protest but decided against it. He was a guest in this house, after all. It wouldn’t be the best idea to start arguing.

While Picani worked in the kitchen, Thomas and Roman talked to each other. They seemed to have quite a few things in common. Virgil listened in but made no comments. There was no way he could match their energy or interests. Roman called him “dark-and-dreary” for a reason. So instead, he opted to sink into the background and eavesdrop.

He was used to being unnoticed. As depressing as that sounded, he didn’t mind. Most of the time he was too silent for people to realize he was there, which was how he liked it. It also meant he got the best scoops on all the gossip. In fact, one of his favorite pastimes was listening in on people’s conversations. It didn’t matter if he knew them or not, he just liked to hear their stories. That was one of the only perks to being a bartender; he got to hear people talk about random problems with little prompting.

It was because of this that he caught onto Picani mumbling in the kitchen.

Roman and Thomas continued to chat, oblivious to anything else. Virgil rolled his eyes and glanced toward the kitchen. It almost seemed as if Picani was having a quiet conversation with someone. Well, more like a mini argument. He wore a deep frown and articulated with his free hand. Virgil couldn’t hear what was being said, and part of him wanted to sneak up for an auditory equivalent of a glimpse into Picani’s thoughts.

Somewhere in Virgil, however, urged him to stay seated. Not for the respect of privacy (though maybe that was some of the reason), but because he may not like what he finds. As if a weird primal instinct knew something he didn’t.

That set him on edge a little. The last time an instinct told him something was wrong he had to protect Thomas from… something. Whether or not it was a person has yet to be definitive.

“Virgil,” Thomas’s voice made Virgil jump and turn back to the other occupants of the table. “Do  _you_  have a favorite musical?”

Virgil felt a heat rise up to his cheeks. He wanted to say no -- lie and say musicals weren’t his thing -- but the way Thomas looked at him made him reconsider. Damn, this kid was doing stuff to his heartstrings that he didn’t enjoy. “I-I, uh… like Broadway or something?”

“Anything.” Thomas’s smile widened.

“Well in that case, uh, I guess Dear Evan Hansen?” His ears started to warm up. He had never shared that with anyone else before.

Both Thomas and Roman gasped.

“No way,” Thomas squeaked. He bounced in his seat. “I love that one!”

“I can’t believe you actually listen to Broadway,” Roman said with genuine awe. “I would’ve taken you for an edgy emo band kinda guy.”

Virgil smirked. “Honestly, I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Before Roman could comment, Picani called on Thomas to help him.

He let out a little huff before pushing himself away from the table and making his way to the kitchen.

Virgil couldn’t help but be amused at that. Something about it was so very teenager; it truly did make Thomas seem like any other kid. Because everyone, at one point or another, has gotten annoyed at having to do mundane tasks because their main caretaker asked them to.

A moment later, Thomas returned with two plates of spaghetti followed by Picani with the other two. He set down the plates at the two empty chairs while Thomas set his two down in front of Roman and Virgil. Virgil mumbled his thanks and Roman sounded more polite with a full out thank you.

“I’m afraid we only have water,” Picani sighed. “Someone -- I won’t say who --” Thomas ducked his head -- “forgot about the groceries he was supposed to get. I hope you both don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Roman responded for them.

“C’mon, twinkle toes.” Picani poked Thomas in the side. “I need the extra hands.”

Thomas flushed and followed after him, grumbling about nicknames and being ticklish.

Roman smiled at them and Virgil noticed something hiding in his eyes. He couldn’t tell what, but it was there. “It’s like they’re two friends,” Roman sighed. “If Thomas told us they were brothers, I’d believe it.”

Virgil decided to look at them as well. They  _did_  act as if they were siblings. There was bickering and teasing unlike in a typical parent-child relationship. They nudged each other out of the way and raced to do things faster. “Yeah, I’d buy into that. But they don’t really look alike, do they?”

That much was true. If they were somewhat related then Thomas might have been close to Picani in height, yet that wasn’t the case. Thomas seemed average height if not a little shorter. Where Thomas’s hair was straight, Picani’s held a wave. The color of their hair, eyes, and skin also contradicted. They could have easily been strangers.

“Adoption exists, Virgil,” Roman deadpanned.

Virgil turned back to him, a snarky response on his lips, but he reconsidered it. “That’s valid.” He shrugged. “It’s kinda weird ‘cause it came from you.”

Roman placed a hand on his chest. “I’m insulted.”

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

Roman glared at him. Any retort he might have had was once again cut short. This time by Thomas’s giggling.

Picani and Thomas returned with glasses of water and set them on the table in their respective places.

“Alrighty,” Picani said. “Everyone good?” After some form of confirmation from everyone, he allowed himself to sit down.

Thomas decided to pick up the previous conversation where it left off. Which was unfortunate for Virgil since it centered around him. He had to answer other various questions along the lines of favorite songs or actors. (With occasional input from Thomas or Roman).

Picani didn't participate. He listened and smiled, but didn't speak up. It seemed he was content watching their antics as their civil discussion slowly devolved into jokes, banter, and squabble.

Virgil was surprised that they got to that point at all. It was almost as if they were all… friends. He had known Roman for quite a while, but they never met each other outside of the bar. And they both only met Thomas a few days ago. It was odd to him how they could all act so comfortable around each other with limited interactions. Never in all his twenty-eight years of living had he ever made friends as fast as this. Hell, it took him several weeks just to get comfortable around anyone.

Yet here they were. Talking as if they had known each other for years. It wasn’t unpleasant or unwelcome, but it was different. A weird different. Virgil didn’t want to get too caught up in it. That wasn’t what he was here for, anyway.

They were halfway through their meal before Picani spoke again in response to Thomas’s question, “Isn’t there a Broadway show that you like?”

Picani paused, his expression a bit surprised. “That isn’t really my area of expertise.” He gave a similar grin as Thomas had many times before; sheepish and shy.

“What  _is_  your area of expertise?” Roman asked with a raised brow.

“Well ‘I have approximate knowledge of many things’.” He took a sip of water without any further context.

If Virgil didn’t know where that came from, he might have thought Picani was being vague and cryptic. He was tempted to call him a dork -- despite the rather clever response -- but resided to letting out a small laugh.

“He loves cartoons,” Thomas clarified for Roman. “Among other things, but mainly cartoons.”

Picani hummed in agreement. “The amount of things that I know about cartoons isn’t exactly --” He clamped his mouth shut. He pursed his lips and shook his head as if he was done with someone, causing Thomas to snort. “Let’s use the word limited.”

“Can we also use the word ‘infinitesimal’?” Thomas snickered from around his hand.

Picani frowned and pointed at Thomas. “That word isn’t allowed in this house anymore.” Then his serious resolve cracked. “But, yes, that works too.”

Virgil raised a brow. “Is there a reason it isn't allowed anymore?”

Thomas grinned. “He misused it once.”

One of Picani's hands started twitching. He let go of his fork to grab it and pull it under the table. No one but Virgil seemed to notice. “Part of me is still really annoyed,” Picani muttered. “Anywho, enough of embarrassing things I've done. Virgil --”

Virgil perked up in response. He thought he had been caught staring, but that proved otherwise.

“Didn't you have questions?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Now it felt a little awkward to do so. “I mean if you're ready for it.” Well, that sounded lame.

Picani smiled. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Wait,” Roman spoke before Virgil could even open his mouth. “Before we get into what might possibly be a serious topic, can I ask you one thing?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. He decided to finish off the last of his spaghetti while Roman dragged out their night.

He continued after confirmation from Picani. “How tall are you?”

“Six-four.”

Virgil choked on a noodle. He covered his mouth and tried to quiet down his coughing. It was more than a little embarrassing to choke on food in front of strangers. Not to mention when said strangers looked at him. “I’m good,” he wheezed. “S’fine.” He waved his hand to dismiss them.

“Well anyway,” Roman continued slowly. He returned his eyes back to Picani. “You’re a giant.”

“Am I?” His voice indicated that he heard this many times before. “Hadn’t noticed.”

Virgil chugged the rest of his water and placed the glass on the table. He let out one more cough before deciding that he was safe. That was the last time he underestimated Roman’s basic questions.

“I think Virgil’s ready now,” Thomas commented. He peered around Roman to get a better look at the aforementioned person. “He looks like he stopped dying.”

“Thanks,” Virgil muttered with heavy sarcasm. “Good to know you have my back, Thomas.” He couldn’t help but smirk a bit at Thomas’s elated expression. “Well, anyway, I guess my main question is what is going on? Just like in general?”

Picani and Thomas shared a look. Where Picani looked apprehensive, Thomas held hope and an encouraging smile. “That’s a bit difficult to explain,” Picani sighed. “In all honesty, it might seem like I’m making this up.”

“That’s always a good sign.” Virgil grimaced.

Picani sighed again. All previous joy he held seemed to vanish. “I’m just saying that you may not like the answers I give.” He glanced at Thomas one more time before directing his attention to Virgil. “There are things in this world that exist beyond what you know. Beyond any science or reasoning. Some of those things are good, but others are not.”

Virgil didn’t have a response to that. He didn’t think a good one existed. It sounded as if he was about to be given a quest from a wise, old wizard. Virgil didn’t know if he could handle being the main character in a wild story.

But Picani didn’t appear to care about that. “You two have already witnessed some of that bad. Those things that you saw after Thomas weren’t people. Not really. They shouldn’t even exist in the first place. They’re… well, we call them Figments.” He motioned between himself and Thomas. “They’re fractions of people -- shadows of ones who have long since past. They don’t remember being human nor do they have any reason of existence other than to fulfill a task.”

“What kind of tasks?” Roman asked before Virgil could wrap his head around it.

“As far as we can tell, it’s anything.” He smoothed out a wrinkle in the tablecloth. “They can’t think for themselves. They’re only able to do something directly or not at all.”

Something in that sentence clicked with Virgil. “I got in her way.” It was a comment made towards himself, but it must have come out louder than he intended. He gained three pairs of eyes. “Sorry -- I, uh, I just… you said they could only do things directly.” He kept his eyes trained on his plate. “The lady that was after Thomas left after I stood in front of him.”

“Well you got lucky,” Roman grumbled. “I had to do it the hard way.”

“You both got the job done.” Thomas grinned at them.

“Interesting.” Picani leaned back in his chair. He put his fingertips together and placed them under his nose. “It learned. When it didn’t find Thomas at the bar, it went a different direction and tried to catch him in the open, but he happened to find Roman at the right time. After fighting Roman, it realized  _that_  couldn’t get it Thomas. So when it ran into Virgil, it avoided conflict altogether.” His eyes lit up. “That’s so fascinating.”

Thomas raised a brow. “Fascinating for who, exactly?” He gave a knowing smirk.

Picani flushed. He chuckled nervously and dropped his hands. “Y’know. In general.”

“But we saw two different people,” Virgil said.

“Oh, of course.” Picani sat up. “We never see the same Figment twice. We assume that they come from the same place so they must all have the same thought process and directive.”

Roman furrowed his brows. “What’s their directive?”

Picani paused. Virgil could see the hesitation all over his features. “Um -- let’s not worry about that. Baby steps here.” He gave a smile that didn’t fool Virgil at all. “I think the better question might be if you believe all this or not.”

Virgil and Roman shared a look. They both relayed uncertainty through their expressions. Virgil didn’t want to believe it -- wanted to stand up and call him crazy -- but something held back any doubts. He didn’t know what it was. For the first time in his life, he was content with the answers he received. He didn’t fear this new knowledge, but rather, wanted to learn more.

This wasn’t anything like him at all.

“I think,” Virgil started. “We should sleep on it.” He shared another look with Roman. “It’s kind of… a lot of weird information for one night.” Yes. Of course. It was the odd hour in which he was up. That must be it.

Confusion crossed Picani’s face before he erased it into a gentle smile. “Sure. It is rather late.” He stood up. “You can leave your plates. Thomas doesn’t mind getting them.”

Thomas looked as if he was about to protest, but was silenced by a face from Picani. They appeared to have a silent “you-disobeyed-me-and-got-into-trouble-so-this-is-your-punishment” conversation. Thomas sighed and started gathering the dishes.

Picani then led Roman and Virgil back to the front door.

“Thank you,” Roman said. “For having us and for answering our questions.” Virgil nodded in agreement.

“It was no problem.” Some of Picani’s previous cheeriness was returning. “We were glad to have you.” He unlocked the door and opened it for the two to step through.

“Wait!” Thomas ran from the kitchen after a clatter of silverware. Without a word of warning, he launched himself at Roman to give him a hug. “Thanks for talking Broadway with me.” When he let go, he treated Virgil the same way. “Thank you for listening.” He might have held on a moment longer than he did with Roman.

Virgil was too shocked to respond. He wasn’t a normal receiver of hugs so this was a bit odd for him. Not to mention this was someone he barely knew. Though he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad, not when there was genuine sincerity in Thomas’s words. This kid was something else for sure.

After a final goodbye, the door closed behind Roman and Virgil. They walked down the steps without saying a word. Until Virgil noticed Roman’s face, that is.

“What are you all smiley about?” His pessimistic attitude leaked back into his voice.

Roman’s smile widened. “He likes you.”

“Can it, Hamiltrash.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of this chapter! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picani isn't who he says he is. And it's revealed at the worst time possible...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS OVER 5,000 WORDS. I AM BLOWN AWAY AT MY OWN ABILITY TO WRITE

The weeks following the dinner were a whirlwind of every possible emotion known to man. Virgil went through at least five stages of grief before acknowledging that he truly did believe everything Picani said. There wasn’t a counter argument. There couldn’t have been. Virgil had witnessed those Figments first hand and he couldn’t deny that something was off about them. But to admit that something other than the laws of nature existed? How could he?

Now Picani didn’t downright say the word magic, but that was the vibe Virgil was getting. The whole “things existing beyond what you know” bit was classic magic exists talk. That much was sure he couldn’t let go of. This was the one thing he couldn’t buy into. Though, maybe, a tiny part of him wanted to believe. Just a little bit.

But he couldn’t! This was the thing keeping him chained to reality. Sure, some weird creatures can exist. Whatever. That’s fine. But magic couldn’t be real. Nothing would be able to convince him otherwise.

Despite Virgil’s inner turmoil, he found himself with Thomas and Picani more often than he’d care to admit. Neither he nor Roman decided to ask any more questions, to which Picani seemed pleased about. He seemed glad that they even believed him at all. Then there was Thomas.

In order to stop Thomas, an underage child, from wandering into the bar whenever he wanted to talk to Roman and Virgil, they both gave him their numbers. He later used that to make a group chat between the three of them (and then an alternate one which included Picani). It was for this reason that the four of them continued to hang out.

Thomas was a persistent little booger and wouldn’t let Virgil or Roman get away. (Or let Picani rest, for that matter). For some odd reason, he liked them. He wanted to keep being friends despite the eleven year age gap. And for some odd reason, Roman and Virgil couldn’t say no. Not that they wanted to all that much. Thomas was a good kid. They liked him.

Though he did have a tendency to be a bit overzealous. Mainly with ideas. It was encouraged by Roman most times, reasoned with by Virgil, and then diffused by Picani. Though sometimes Virgil found himself against all three. There were very few instances in which Virgil was on board with a plan of Thomas’s.

“Absolutely not."

“It’s dangerous,” Virgil continued. “Not to mention dumb.”

“Just think about it,” Thomas tried to reason. “We could --”

“No.” Virgil couldn’t believe he had to argue for this. “You’re not going to launch paint off the roof.” He crossed his arms. “What if you hit something? Or fall off? I can handle Roman getting hurt, but you shouldn’t.”

“Hey!” Roman pouted.

Thomas frowned. “But it’s for art.”

“That’s not what we’re against, squirt,” Picani said. “You can still create art, but the execution might need some work.” He ruffled Thomas’s hair. “After all, if every porkchop were perfect…”

“We wouldn’t have hot dogs,” finished Roman and Thomas. Though Roman’s came out in excitement.

“You watch Steven Universe?” He practically started bouncing. Then realization crossed his face. “Wait, that was a dumb question.” He shook his head and regained his excitement. “How have we never talked about this before?”

“You never asked,” Picani retorted with a smirk.

Virgil couldn’t help but be a bit amused at Roman’s enthusiasm. If he was so passionate about a cartoon it was a wonder how they never _did_ talk about it before. Even Virgil had a conversation about _Adventure Time_ once.

“This is the one cartoon I can actually match Picani in.” Thomas beamed. “We’d talk theories anytime a new episode came out -- but now we can do it with you, too.”

Roman clapped. “Ooh, finally! I’ve always wanted people to talk to about this.” He scooted to the end of his seat. “First thing’s first. Who’s your favorite character? I actually favor Peridot myself.”

“I think I have to go with Steven.” Thomas turned to Picani with a knowing smirk. “What about you, Picani?”

Picani returned it with a similar smirk. “Garnet.”

“And you?” Roman lightly hit Virgil’s shoulder. “I’d imagine you’d relate to Lapis.”

Virgil shrugged. “I’ve never seen it.”

“What?!” Virgil jumped at the sudden volume from all three outbursts.

“That’s it.” Roman stood up. “We’re watching all five seasons right now.”

It was an odd little group. Not many friends consisted of such different ages or temperaments, but Virgil didn’t find it in himself to mind. For the first time in many years, he felt like he had people he could depend on. They might have been a little whacky but it wasn’t as if Virgil was any better. He decided to stay with them after the weirdest possible way to meet.

They provided a break in the dreaded monotony. While constants were nice, it was a different thing when they became tortuous. Sometimes Virgil feared if all there was to his life would be work, sleep, and repeat. It was nice to know that there were other things to live for.

One night, while working at the bar, a call came in through the landline. The bar didn’t get many calls so this was out of the ordinary. Virgil paused his conversation with Roman and walked over to the phone. Virgil could barely get out the word hello before the person on the other end started speaking.

“ _Virgil, have you seen Thomas?”_

Virgil stared at the wall in shock. “Dr. Picani?” He shifted the phone to be in a better position. “What -- how -- why are you calling me through my work phone? You have my number.”

“ _You’re more likely to answer this, aren’t you?”_

“Fair point.” Virgil turned his head to see Roman giving him a questioning gaze. “What were you saying about Thomas?” He gave him a shrug.

“ _He hasn’t come home_ .” There was more than a hint of worry in his voice. “ _I was hoping he was with you. Or you saw him at some point_.”

Virgil furrowed his brows. “No. He hasn’t been in here since he got our numbers.” He turned back around. “Are you sure he didn’t sneak out at all?”

“ _Yes_ .” Sounded as if the phone moved. “ _I checked everywhere he could have been and called the friends he usually hangs out with. He left their place two hours ago_.”

That didn’t sound too good. Virgil pulled his phone out of his pocket to see if Thomas maybe sent him a message. Nothing was displayed but the time. This was starting to seem worse by the second. “Alright, uh, did you… call him?”  He didn’t know what he was doing.

“ _Virgil_.”

“Sorry.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I just haven’t seen him anywhere today.”

Picani sighed. “ _I’m really worried. I don’t know where he is or who he could be with._ ” Something clattered. “ _He can be anywhere. What if he got kidnapped? What if he ran into someone in a dark alley? What if he’s secretly living a double life and it's caught up to him? What if I never see him again? What if --”_

“Whoa, hey, breathe.” Virgil had never heard Picani so panicked before. He tended to be a well-put-together man despite his goofiness. “Stop speaking for like two seconds. Just listen to me, alright? You gotta breathe. Roman and I will help you out. Where are you at?”

“ _Home_.”

“Alright. Stay there, we'll be on our way.” He placed the phone back on the receiver. This wasn't good. He turned back to Roman and leaned over the counter to explain the situation.

Roman checked his phone, just in case, but there was nothing. He frowned at it. “Let's go, then.” He stood up.

“Wait.” Virgil reached over to grab his arm before he could leave. “I can’t just leave without telling anyone.”

“Sure you can.” Roman waved his arm in a motion meant to have Virgil follow him. “Just hop on over.”

Virgil glared at him and dropped his hand. “Wait like two seconds.” He walked away to catch the attention of the nearest coworker. It happened to be Jamahl. Good. He was one of the more understanding people Virgil worked with. So Virgil flagged him down, made up some story about a family emergency and how “I just need to get out of here as quick as possible. Please work the bar for me”.

Jamahl didn't ask for any further information. He was fine with taking up Virgil's duties if it was serious. It made Virgil feel a _little_ bad, but he swore he'd make up for it. He thanked Jamahl multiple times before rushing out from behind the bar, Roman close behind.

They hopped into Roman’s car without a moment’s hesitation. The ride up to Picani’s house was spent in a tense silence. Neither man wanted to bring up the possibilities of Thomas’s disappearance -- upside or otherwise. He was just a kid, after all. He shouldn’t be missing in the first place.

Virgil’s leg started bouncing up and down without his meaning to. A weight pushed down on his shoulders and dripped down his back. Though the heaviness seeped deeper than that. It sunk in his chest, pulling down anything and everything that resided within it. Like a dumbbell had been dropped from his sternum. All he could focus on was how panicked Picani had been -- he was truly afraid of not knowing where his charge was. And then Thomas. Sweet, innocent Thomas. The boy who hugged Virgil for listening and smiled at all his cynical remarks. Where could he even be?

The two didn’t waste any time rushing up those familiar steps as soon as they reached their destination. They wanted to help as best as they could, even if it only meant comforting Picani. Roman knocked on the door and they waited for a response.

It took a minute or two before the door opened. And if Virgil had a better phrase other than “holy shit” at the sight of Picani, he might have thought it.

Picani appeared distressed. He wore a baggy hoodie and pajama bottoms -- something they had never known him to wear before. His hair looked as if he had mussed it up more than once. “You’re here.” He stepped aside to let them in. “I apologize for, well, everything. I think the main thing is for my appearance.”

Virgil noted how empty the house felt. Without Thomas running down the steps or singing from the kitchen, it didn’t seem as if any life was in the building at all. It was a little unnerving.

“It’s all good, doc,” Roman said with a smile. “We’re here to help. Besides, Virgil’s here, so that instantly makes you better dressed than someone.”

Virgil glared at him in response.

Picani led them to the living room where they sat at their normal spots. The one difference being that Thomas wasn’t beside Picani. On the coffee table was a notepad with crossed out scribbles and a grey mug that had 'deadly nightshade' written on it in a rather familiar font.

“I tried any location he might be in.” Picani motioned to the notepad. “No one’s seen him. I had to ask his friends to look out for him.” He sighed and reached for his mug.

“I like your mug,” Virgil muttered. He felt a little silly saying it, but he had a feeling it would make Picani smile. Little things helped sometimes.

Picani paused. A small smile graced his features. “Thank you.” He lifted it up, but his hand started trembling. He stared at it for a few seconds before switching it to his left hand. That one was more steady. “Stop it.” It sounded as if he muttered it to his right hand, for he shook it out after.

That wasn’t the oddest Picani had ever been, so Virgil let it slide. There were other, more important matters, to focus on.

“Well, are there other ways to find him?” Roman continued. “Like the GPS on his phone? Something to track him?”

Picani gently blew on the steam that rolled out of his mug. “No, I don’t --” He froze and his eyes widened. “Say that again.”

Roman shared a confused glance with Virgil. “Something to track him?”

“Track…” He seemed to be forming a mental picture in his head. He let out a little gasp. “Brainblast! Roman, you’re a genius.” Picani set down his mug and leaped off the couch. “Wait right here.” He ran up the stairs to the loft and disappeared into one of the rooms.

An odd thing about Picani’s house (other than the people who lived in it) was how it was built. There were three floors, but only two stories. Contrary to most houses, the first floor wasn’t used much for anything. As far as Roman and Virgil knew, there was a washroom and maybe a few bedrooms. The second floor was also considered the main floor. This was the part they were most familiar with. It had everything that a house needed. Then there was the loft. They had yet to go up there, but from what could be seen, it looked like a mini waiting room with a hallway that had at least three doors.

There was no telling which one Picani went into.

So Roman and Virgil waited. They shared questioning looks, but otherwise waited in silence. Picani tended to be a bit unpredictable at times. He could get excited about something yet forget to mention the details to anyone else. Those were the times where Virgil almost gets a heart attack from an unexpected surprise.

“I know where he is!” Picani came running back down the stairs. He almost slipped on the last step since socks and wood floors weren’t the best mix. “Come on!”

Virgil froze as he complied. He couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light, but he could have sworn that Picani’s eyes were a bright blue instead of their usual hazel. He blinked once and the blue was gone. Must have been the light, then.

Picani shoved on some shoes (Virgil and Roman noted that they were _Vans_ , of all things) and swung open the door to exit. He locked it behind them before taking the steps two at a time. Roman followed suit, but Virgil went the more cautious route of one at a time.

Due to the structure of the driveway, there were actually two places to park. One was in front of the house while the other went more off to the side. After visiting several times, Roman made it his habit to park in the spot off to the side. Virgil had found it a little odd at first, but now he was glad for it. It made it so that Picani’s car could get out without any issues.

Virgil sat in the passenger seat while Roman sat in the back. This was the first time either of them had been in Picani's car. It wasn't anything fancy; just something to get from point A to point B. Unfortunately, it seemed as if only Picani knew their point B. He didn't give word to any idea he had.

“I…” Picani started after they reached a red light. “I’m still wearing my pajamas, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Virgil answered while glancing at Picani out of the corner of his eye.

“Kind of.” Roman gave an awkward smile.

“Well, that’s a little embarrassing.” He adjusted his glasses. “It’s one thing to wear this in my own home in front of the company of others, but out in public?” He seemed to cringe at the idea. “That’s… unprofessional.”

“I think you’re good,” Virgil said. “It’s eleven at night.” He turned his attention out the window. “Wherever we’re going, I don’t think they’ll mind.”

The rest of the ride was spent in a tense silence. No one had anything to bring up. There didn’t seem to be a right thing to talk about at a time like this. Not even Picani mentioned anything else.

Though Virgil did notice how tightly Picani held onto the steering wheel. How it looked as if he wasn’t quite focused on the road, but also not focused on anything else. If Virgil didn’t know better he might have thought Picani was just daydreaming. Yet Virgil was familiar with that look. It tended to be associated with bad things.

At a stop sign, Picani stopped but didn’t keep going. He screwed his eyes shut and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t say a word.

Virgil and Roman glanced at each other. “Uh, doc? You doing okay?” Roman decided to speak up.

Picani didn’t answer. He started to take deep breaths.

Uh oh. Virgil knew where this was going. He held up a hand to stop Roman from speaking further. He wasn't sure if he could handle someone else having a freak out moment. Sometimes he couldn't even handle his own, so he felt the need to limit any other outside interference.

After Picani had taken a few breaths, his eyes opened. “Sorry.” He blinked a few times and loosened his grip on the wheel. “I just needed a minute to… put myself together.”

Virgil noted the odd phrasing but didn't ask for clarification. “That's fine.”

Picani gave a small smile, but it vanished rather quickly. He looked torn between something.

“Do you need someone else to drive?” Roman asked.

“No.” Picani shook his head and the expression disappeared. “It's -- we're almost there.”

Virgil wanted to question where “there” was. The further they drove the more desolate the streets became. Most of the stores they had passed were closed and the street they were on was heading out of the neighborhood. Where else could Thomas be at this hour?

Exactly one turn later, an answer was received.

It was an old, brick building. The for lease banner on the side was dripping and faded. It must have been abandoned for a few years at least. In fact, Virgil couldn't remember a time when it _was_ something. Anytime he had driven passed here it looked as vacant as it did now. There might have been a time where it existed as a small manufacturing plant, but that must have been far off into the past.

“You've got to be kidding me,” Roman groaned as the car came to a halt. His eyes were trained on the menacing building outside. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m afraid that this is one of the times that I’m not.” Picani appeared just as displeased as he eyed up the building.

There wasn’t much lighting outside. There was one working light post within the plot that they were parked under. The entrance to the building had two lights on either side of the door. If there hadn’t been any streetlights along the sidewalk, it might have been impossible to see much of anything.

Virgil’s skin crawled. “Shouldn’t we call the police or something?”

“If I’m right -- and I probably am --” He stared straight at Virgil. “This is something they won’t want to get involved in.” His eyes turned back out the window. “If worse comes to worst, just… run.”

Virgil was going to vomit. He didn’t like any of the scenarios that were playing out in his head.

Picani clicked his seatbelt off. “You two can feel free to stay in here, but I’m going to go inside.” He didn’t leave much room for argument. As soon as the words left his mouth he was out the door.

Both Virgil and Roman sat in a shocked silence for a few seconds. They watched Picani walk around the front of the car and trek to the entrance of the building.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Virgil heard Roman’s seatbelt click. “But I’m going with him.”

Virgil couldn’t form an intelligent enough response in time. He watched Roman catch up to Picani. Now he could either stay alone or explore an abandoned building with company. “Oh hell,” he hissed under his breath. He followed after the both of them. Maybe he’d live to regret it, maybe they’d all get murdered before leaving the building at all. It was a fifty/fifty chance at this point.

He wanted the door to be locked or busted or something but, of course, it wasn't. It opened with surprising ease. Somehow that made it more unsettling.

“Stay close,” Picani whispered.

They entered soon after. Roman and Virgil huddled together behind Picani who led the way. Inside was much too dark for their eyes to adjust. The only light around came from the lamppost outside. In response, Picani pulled out his phone to use as a flashlight. If it didn’t seem as if they were in a horror movie before then, then it sure did now. The outlook from before started to change into sixty/forty with the majority being that they died before leaving.

Virgil couldn’t help but be on edge the whole time. Every little sound caused him to jump. A rat had scurried across their path once and he scrambled to hold onto something on pure instinct. It happened to be Roman’s arm. Once the initial shock passed, he removed himself and created a bigger gap between him and Roman. Though he made sure to give him a glare at his slight smirk.

While the annoyance temporarily distracted his mind from the looming thoughts of death, it seeped back in soon after. He thought he was going to start losing his marbles before Picani came to an abrupt halt.

“Thomas!” He took off sprinting toward the end of the hall.

Thomas perked up from his slumped position on the floor. He broke out into a huge grin. “Emile!” It looked as if he went to stand, but something stopped him. He fell back to the ground with an annoyed huff.

Picani knelt down and placed his phone on the floor so that it could light up the small portion of the hall that they were in. He sucked air through his teeth when he saw the reddish bruise forming on the side of Thomas’s face. “Sorry, kiddo,” Picani’s voice took on a nurturing tone. “Gonna have to take care of that the old fashioned way.”

“The old…?” Thomas did a double-take when he saw Virgil and Roman. “You brought them here?” He gave Picani an incredulous look.

Picani glanced back at them. Roman gave a small wave. “More or less.”

“That’s not good.” When Thomas moved his hands, Virgil noticed what looked like fishing line around his wrists.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Thomas looked between Roman and Virgil. The expression on his face reminded Virgil of the first time they met. He turned his attention back to Picani and leaned in to whisper something to his ear.

Picani drew back to stare at him in dismay. Then he, too, looked at Roman and Virgil. “Yeah, that’s very not good.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “We all need to get out of here right now.”

“I’m not opposed to that,” Roman said. “But can I please know why it’s a big deal that Virgil and I are here?” He crossed his arms. “I mean, I know I’m pretty spectacular, but that doesn’t seem relevant.”

Virgil didn’t know whether to roll his eyes or pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Because whoever is here,” Picani lowered his voice as if the person in question was right around the corner. “Isn’t going to like our presence near them.”

As if that wasn’t ominous enough, the pipes over their head started rattling. Whispered voices overlapped each other in a silent symphony until a pipe gave way.

Black wisps of smoke curled out of it. As it exited, it seemed to gain a more solid form -- though nothing about it had a definite mass. It had a strange inky consistency yet somehow floated like its previous smoke form.

“Too late,” Thomas whimpered.

Picani let out a distraught groan. While Roman and Virgil stared up at the black cloud, he wrapped his hands around Thomas’s wrists. A pale blue light severed the ties keeping him to the ground. “Let’s go.” He scooped up Thomas as if he weighed nothing.

“Whoa, hey!” Thomas grabbed fistfuls of Picani’s hoodie. “Nothing’s wrong with my legs.”

“Yeah, but you’re slow.”

Thomas made an offended noise but otherwise made no further protest.

They grabbed Roman and Virgil’s attention before running back toward the entrance.

Virgil tried to follow suit -- he wanted more than anything to leave this godforsaken place -- but he noticed Roman run in the opposite direction. He stayed put. “Roman!” He saw Roman grab Picani’s phone and wanted to scream. Out of all the things.

“Light is important, sunshine.” Roman grasped Virgil’s arm as he ran by.

The two came to a staggered halt when the black mass cut off the rest of the hall.

“Well it’s not more important than getting out of here alive,” Virgil shot back. “Come on.” He tugged Roman through a doorway.

They needed a way out. They needed a way out. Find a way out. Find a way out. Find a way out. _Where could they go?_

Virgil glanced behind them and saw the black mass following them. There wasn’t any going back. He looked around and saw a staircase. It was rusted and didn’t seem too sturdy, but they had no other choice. Virgil pulled Roman toward it.

The black mass inched its way after them. Tendrils curled out of it like grasping hands. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to stop regardless of where they went.

“Virgil!” Roman extended an arm out to hold Virgil from progressing.

While Virgil had his eyes on the mass following them, another one of equal size cut them off at the front. They were surrounded.

“This isn’t good.”

Virgil didn’t have the voice to agree. He had no idea how his life led up to this point. He would have been fine without this. He didn’t need this. If he had a chance to redo his choices so he didn’t end up back here, he might have done it.

But he didn’t have that. And he didn’t need it.

From behind them came Picani’s voice, reprimanding them as if they were children. They turned to see him with a metal pipe that dripped with black ink. The mass had been broken up enough for him to get through, but it started reforming piece by piece.

If Virgil didn’t know any better, he might have thought Picani appeared out of thin air. He didn’t hear him coming up the stairs or even see him enter the room. Not that that was one of his main concerns, however.

Picani rushed forward and sliced through the other mass blocking their way. He carved out a tunnel for the three of them to run through. “Follow me.”

Neither Virgil nor Roman hesitated to do so. The other mass had reformed and it managed not to seem too pleased. Its movements were erratic -- jagged.

The three rushed into another room and slammed the doors shut. One of the first things Virgil noticed was the light coming from across the way on the first floor. It lit up half the room with an odd glow. Something between a flickering candle and a spotlight.

“Stay here,” Picani whispered. He was staring at the light, too. “And be quiet.”

Roman and Virgil watched as Picani head down the steps. He held the pipe like a baseball bat. His movements were silent; if they weren’t watching, they wouldn’t have believed he was in the room at all. He peeked through the door and let out a silent gasp. He lowered the pipe as he slowly backed away from it.

Then a door knocked into Virgil’s back. Virgil and Roman stumbled forward from the force. They spun around and saw the black mass trying to seep through. Roman pushed both doors back closed, but the mass continued to push on them. Virgil hesitated before pressing his back against one to try to keep it closed.

Picani tried to go forward but stopped. “Wait,” he hissed. “What are you doing?” He backed up to his original position. “He’s a murderer. We have to go in there.” His face twisted into a grimace. “No. We have to go back.” He began backing up further but stopped in the middle of the room.

“We have to go after Altair,” he muttered under his breath. “No. Our friends need us.” He glared. “He’s going to get away. We have to protect Roman and Virgil. No. No. No.” He screwed his eyes shut and there was a ball of light.

After the ball dispersed, two men stumbled away from each other.

One of them yelled in frustration. “Patton!” He turned to his accomplice. “We have to go after him -- that is our main objective.”

“Protecting humans is our main objective,” the other, Patton, reasoned. His voice wasn’t as harsh, but it was clear he was making an argument.

“We can protect the humans if we go after him. You have to look at the bigger picture, _Patton_.”

“Humans aren’t as strong as you think, _Logan_.”

“That isn’t a good reason to let him get away.”

“Um, guys?” Roman interjected. He almost lost his footing when something banged on the door.

The two men turned away from each other and onto the two very confused onlookers.

“Stay with them,” Logan snapped. “I’ll go after Altair.”

“Wait --” Patton tried to grab onto him, but it was already too late. He stomped his foot and let out an annoyed growl. “Stupid mages thinking they’re invincible.”

“What the hell is going on?!” Virgil struggled to keep his back against the door. This couldn’t be happening. It could _not_ be real. What the actual fuck.

Patton sighed. He whirled around and ran back up the stairs. He shoved his hand between the two humans and slammed the doors shut. After they were closed, he put his body against them as Roman and Virgil had.

“Of _course_ ,” Patton fumed. “It has to be _my_ fault.” The doors threatened to open, but Patton slammed them closed. “ _I’m_ the crazy one for not wanting to take on a murderous madman. I thought _I_ was the one that put too much emotion into reasoning.” Patton fell forward and with an aggravated sigh he slammed the doors closed again. “I thought you couldn’t afford to feel?” After he got pushed the third time, he yelled in annoyance. “Can you stop that?” He turned toward the doors.

“Here.” He thrust the pipe into Virgil’s hands. “Stand back, you two.”

Virgil and Roman gaped at him. “What --”

“ _Now_.”

The authority in his voice caused the two to jump and move out of the way.

Patton placed his hands together. A soft glow began spreading between his palms until they were encased with light. He glared at the black tendrils starting to seep through and rushed forward to place his hands between the gap. A flash of light was all that could be seen, then the tendrils were gone. The door stopped moving. Patton dropped his hands as if nothing had happened.

“What --” Roman tried to speak, but was cut off by Patton holding up a finger.

“No time.” He spun around. “Need to stop Logan.” He ran over to the railing and leaped over it.

Both Roman and Virgil shouted in alarm. They rushed over to it but saw that Patton was fine. He continued running like no big deal.

“Well that was a little dramatic,” Roman sighed. “Couldn’t have taken the stairs?”

“I don’t even know what’s happening.” Virgil stepped away from the railing. “First, Thomas goes missing, then we have to run away from a weird cloud thing, and now… this?” He waved his arms in the general direction of where Patton and Logan went. “What was that whole thing? What happened to Picani? Where did he go?”

“I think --” Roman furrowed his brows -- “I think they _are_ Picani.”

Virgil didn’t get the chance to exclaim how ludicrous that idea was. His words were cut off by various loud noises in the other room.

“Sounds like they need some help,” Roman commented.

“Are you kidding me?” Virgil gawked at him. “You don’t want to get involved with whatever is going on in there.”

Roman winced at Patton’s distressed voice. “I think I kinda do.” He took off down the stairs.

Virgil cursed under his breath. He stared at the pipe in his hands and hardened his grip. He was going to regret this. “Hold on, you idiot.”

They sprinted through the doorway together. The scene before them caused them to stop in their tracks. This wasn't anything they were expecting.

Patton ran over to Logan who was on the ground. Before the two of them was a man dressed in clothing out of a past time period. He might have stood taller than either of them but he was cut in size from reeling (as if something had hit him). The glow of the room spiraled around him like bright streamers. Every light sparkled in white except one. A dark blue stream of light swirled around one of his arms. It crackled with a similar pulse to electricity.

“Are you okay?” Patton held Logan's face in his hands. “What did he do? Are you hurt?”

Logan blinked several times. “I, I don't --” His eyes widened. “Patton!” He extended his arm out.

Patton turned and gasped. The man had recovered. A ball of light headed in their direction. Patton threw his arms out and a blue -- almost translucent -- half bubble shielded them. The ball exploded on impact.

Logan stared at his hand in confusion.

“I think we need Picani,” Patton said as the bubble took another hit.

“I can't.” Logan held his hand close to his chest. “I-I can't.”

Patton turned his head toward him. “What do you mean you can't?” He fell back when the bubble got hit again. It shrunk in size.

Virgil didn't register the pipe leaving his hands until he heard it clang against the cement floor. His heart threatened to climb out through his throat.

The three men snapped their heads toward the sound. Logan and Patton had surprise all over their features while the other man was unreadable.

Virgil couldn't breathe.

The man sneered. With the spin of his heel, he vanished into thin air.

“Oh no,” Logan muttered.

Patton lowered his arms and the bubble went away. He stared at the place the other man once was before shaking his head. “That's enough excitement for one day.” He pulled Logan up with him. “C'mon you guys.” He led the way out with Logan's hand in his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of this huge chapter! Don't ask me how it got so long, it just kinda happened


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out something happened to Logan that leaves Picani benched for the time being.

Thomas leaned against the car with his arms crossed. A tense expression plagued his features until he saw the group exit the building. He jumped up with a huge smile, but it disappeared the moment he laid eyes on Logan and Patton. He didn't look alarmed or anything. Just disappointed? Upset? Virgil couldn't put a finger on the exact feeling behind it, he was still reeling from everything and the fact that Thomas _was completely unfazed what the actual fuck._

“Patton? Logan?” He dropped his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“You know them?!” Both Roman and Virgil exclaimed. “Newsies and Harry Potter over there?” Roman added.

Patton and Logan looked at each other.

Thomas shrunk a bit into himself as if afraid of their reaction. “Of course I know them. They're Picani.” He motioned to them. They had yet to leave each other's side.

Now that they were out of all the action, Virgil and Roman were able to take in the full sight of Logan and Patton. They were now the shortest in the group with both being an inch or two below Thomas.

Logan had on a pair of wire-framed glasses. Circular and large -- very much like the fictional character of Harry Potter. He wore a deep blue three-piece suit accompanied by brown boots rather than dress shoes. And a gold-colored tie. His hair, light and slicked back, finished off his look.

Patton’s glasses had a thicker, black frame yet still held that circular shape. Rather than a suit, he wore a colorful vest with a bowtie. His dress pants were a light grey and he, too, had on brown boots. On top of his head sat a flat cap (or newsboy cap).

“What do you mean ‘they’re Picani’?” Virgil asked. He tore his eyes away from the odd pair to give his attention to Thomas. “How does that make sense?”

“And why do they look like they came out of the Great Gatsby?” Roman added.

“We’re standing right here.” Logan crossed his arms. “Feel free to direct those questions at us anytime you’d like.”

Virgil glared at him. “Answer them, then, since you seem so keen on it.”

Logan returned the glare.

“Picani’s a fusion,” Patton jumped in with a bright smile. He elbowed Logan's side. “We’re part of a fusion. There you go, question answered.”

“A what?” Virgil’s annoyance gave way to genuine shock and confusion.

“Are you for real?” Roman seemed less confused and more ecstatic. “Does that make you gems?” He gasped. “Is that why you like Garnet so much?”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “We aren’t gems, but we’re not exactly human, either.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Virgil crossed his arms. He didn’t have his hoodie with him so he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands.

Patton and Logan exchanged a look. Logan seemed stern yet irritated. Patton gave a bright smile and a nod, making Logan sigh. He turned his head back to Virgil and Roman. “We’re -- well, to put it simply, we're magic.”

Virgil opened his mouth to protest, but the words didn’t come out. Something stopped him from speaking any doubts. They fluttered away as if they had never been there in the first place. He shook his head. “Y’know what?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tonight has been so crazy that I actually believe that.”

“Really?” All four responses were in shock.

“You don’t seem like the type to believe in fairytales,” Roman commented.

“Yeah, well,” Virgil shrugged. “Might as well start now.”

A wide grin spread across Thomas’s face and Virgil pretended that didn’t matter to him.

“Wait,” Roman started. “So if you both have magic, and you can fuse…” His eyes lit up. “You have to tell me everything. I want to know how you two met. When did you learn you could fuse? Is fusing a common thing? Is it like Steven Universe? How have I gone my whole life without knowing this?”

“One question at a time, kiddo,” Patton laughed. “We’ll get to all that eventually.”

“Right.” Roman nodded, but Virgil could tell he was still buzzing with excitement. “Can we go back to my first question, then?”

“The one about Great Gatsby?”

Roman nodded again while Virgil spoke, “I’m a little curious about that, too.” Virgil glanced them up and down once more. They really did look like someone dropped them in the wrong time period.

Patton beamed. “Oh that was --” His smile faltered. “That, uh,” he looked at Logan who seemed uneasy all of a sudden. “The last time we stayed unfused.” He averted his gaze somewhere else and fidgeted with his sleeves. “It was the 1920s if I remember correctly.”

“That was almost a hundred years ago,” Virgil gaped. “How old _are_ you?”

Roman furrowed his brows. “Why did you unfuse?”

“I think that’s a question for right now,” Thomas rushed into the conversation. “Patton, Logan, care to explain?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” slight sarcasm leaked into Patton’s voice. “Logan, what exactly happened back there?”

Logan huffed in annoyance. “We had an opportunity --”

“You rushed in without a plan.”

“I had one --”

“It would have been safer to stay back.” Patton crossed his arms. His soft features appeared ticked off. “You just didn’t want to listen to me because you always think I’m wrong.”

Logan froze for a moment. “I don’t always --” He sighed. “Look, I will admit I made an… uncalculated risk. Which led to some unforeseen consequences.”

“Whoa, wait,” Thomas took a step forward. “What consequences? What happened?”

Logan sighed again. He held out one of his hands and snapped. Tiny sparks appeared for a fraction of a second. He did it again and the same reaction happened. Like a lighter that won’t quite catch a flame.

“Oh no.” Patton put his hands under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “That’s what that was. He took it from you, didn’t he? You’re magic-less.”

“W-well there’s still a spark -- that means something, right?” Thomas gave them a hopeful, yet unsure smile.

“It’s a sign that I’m alive,” Logan answered with a frown. “Not much else.”

Thomas managed to keep up his smile. “That’s good. Right?” He turned to Roman and Virgil. “Being alive is good.” Roman agreed wholeheartedly while Virgil gave the so-so sign with his hand. “See? Good.”

“Maybe we would have all of you if you listened to me for once.” Patton fixed his glasses.

Logan gawked at him. “Are you seriously doing this right now?” He pointed at him. “I almost had my soul sucked out of my body and it was _not_ pleasant.”

“And who’s the one that had to save you from that?” Patton crossed his arms. “Why were you in that position in the first place?”

Logan was stunned into silence for a moment. He recovered with an exasperated groan. “I can’t believe you --”

The two broke out into an argument. Neither of their words could be deciphered as they began speaking over each other. Thomas stood off to the side like a child whose parents started fighting out in public. He mouthed an apology to Roman and Virgil.

Roman gave a wavering smile while Virgil put his face in his hands. They were the friends who had to witness their friend’s parents arguing in public. Overall, it was a bit uncomfortable for everyone.

“Alright you can stop now,” Thomas yelled over their voices. “We’re in the middle of a parking lot in front of company.”

The bickering couple silenced their voices. They muttered small apologies to Roman and Virgil, seeming somewhat ashamed of their actions.

Patton messed with the button on his sleeve. “I’m sorry for getting mad, Logan.” He sighed. “I really am glad you’re okay, but because you’re okay I felt it was fine to be upset with you.” He looked up at Logan. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?”

“I understand.” Logan, with slight hesitation, grabbed Patton’s hand. “You have every right to be upset with me. I should have listened to you.” He intertwined their fingers. “I apologize if I make you think you’re always wrong, that is never my intention. You’re smart in your own way and I appreciate everything you contribute.”

Patton smirked a bit. “Even the puns?”

“Almost everything, then.”

Patton chuckled and stepped forward to pull Logan into a kiss. “You know the best thing about being unfused?” Patton asked after they pulled away. They were still close enough for their lips to touch.

Logan raised a brow. “What’s that?” Though it seemed he already knew the answer.

“I get to kiss your cute face.” Patton grabbed the sides of Logan’s face and starting kissing every inch.

They both erupted with laughter with Logan begging Patton to stop doing this in front of company.

The bystanders had varying reactions. Thomas looked like any other child did when their parents kissed in front of them. Scrunched up nose and everything. Roman appeared to be witnessing true love for the first time and Virgil wanted to throw up at the sweetness of it all.

“Oh, God, I ship them already,” Roman muttered from underneath his hand.

Virgil couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that.

Thomas made exaggerated gagging sounds. “We get it. You’re cute. Cut it out.” He covered his eyes.

Patton stopped kissing Logan. A devious grin spread across his face. “Do you want some too, Thomas?” He looked at the boy in question.

“No.” Thomas dropped his hands. “Don’t you dare.”

“What do you think, Logan?” Patton winked at him. “Should we show him some love? We haven’t seen him in a rather long time.”

Logan smirked. “I think I can agree with you there, Patton.”

Thomas held his hands up in defense. “Stop right there.” He took a step back. “Do _not_ come any further.” He tried to run but Patton wrapped his arms around him and trapped him in a hug. He began kissing the side of his face. Then Logan came around and kissed the other side, though with less enthusiasm as Patton. “Stop! Oh my God.” Thomas’s face turned a bright red.

Virgil snorted and covered his mouth to keep from laughing. Even Roman had to bite his lip to stop the amusement from rolling out. Thomas turned an even brighter red in response.

“You’re being embarrassing,” he whined. He pushed them away so they were at his arm’s length.

“Shut up, you love us.” Patton grinned.

Thomas hid his flushed face. “Just fuse back. Please.”

Patton and Logan exchanged a glance. “I mean we can try,” Patton said.

“Yes. Please. Oh my gosh.” He refused to look at anyone.

Patton giggled at Thomas’s embarrassment. He held a hand out to Logan who took it. They both stepped off to the side together. Patton took Logan’s other hand and squeezed it, giving a reassuring smile. Logan returned it with a small one of his own. They closed their eyes and took a deep breath.

Virgil could feel Roman vibrating with enthusiasm. He scoffed a little bit, but couldn’t deny it was a bit amusing how excited he was. Seeing an actual fusion as opposed to an animated one on _Steven Universe_ must have been a dream come true.

Even Thomas stopped trying to hide so he could see it.

The two were encased in light. Unlike a _Steven Universe_ fusion, there were no colors, but much of everything else was the same. Their two forms merged until they were one. It lengthened out to Picani’s height, but that’s where it wavered. It fluctuated between a distinct form and a random jumble. Then it blew out. Very much like a fuse. Patton and Logan were sent to the ground with a small shout.

Thomas furrowed his brows in confusion. “That was… new.” He went to help up Patton, who was closer to him, while Roman helped up Logan. “I’ve never seen you guys fail to fuse before.”

“To be fair, you haven’t seen us fuse much.” Logan straightened out his clothes. “We’re almost always together.”

“But he does have a point,” Patton mentioned with a slight frown. “Even our earliest attempts never ended in failure.”

Logan opened his mouth as if to argue but soon closed it. His brows pulled together in thought. “You’re right. Our very first attempt, although an accident, went through to completion.” He moved his hand to place on his chin then stopped. He pulled it back and stared at it. “It’s because of me.” He looked at Patton. “I thought -- maybe -- but it really is because of me.”

“But that’s not how it works.” Patton frowned further. “You _know_ that’s not how it works. Only one of us --”

“I know you don’t want to believe it.” Logan turned his eyes somewhere else. “I didn’t either. I hoped…” He shook his head and tore down his crushed expression. “Without my magic, we can’t form Picani. That’s all there is to it.” He adjusted his glasses even though they didn’t need it. “We received all the evidence we need.”

It looked as if Patton wanted to argue further, but he let it drop. He tried to erase the disappointment from his face with a smile. It didn’t work all that well. “We can try another time.”

Logan didn’t respond to that.

“You tried, you failed, can we leave now?” Virgil piped up.

“Oh, right.” Patton chuckled. “Uh, who has the keys?” Both he and Logan began checking their pockets.

Logan fished them out of his pants pocket.

“So you're driving?” Patton grinned as if to make it a more compelling argument.

Logan didn't buy into it. He tossed the keys at Patton. “I almost died tonight. I think that warrants a free pass.”

Patton pouted. He unlocked the car for everyone to get inside.

Thomas, being the smallest, had to sit in the middle with Roman and Virgil on either side of him. Logan had the passenger side and Patton fell into the driver’s side. He let out a discontented noise. The seat was too far away for him to reach anything.

“Picani really is a giant,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled the seat forward. He let out another sad noise. Now the mirrors were wrong.

After everything had been adjusted, they were ready to go. Virgil kept quiet for most of the time. Roman and Thomas talked between themselves, but Virgil didn’t want any part in it. He tried to grapple with the fact that he believed Logan about magic being real. How could he have gone along with it like that?

Not believing in magic was the one thing keeping him sane. How in the hell did he drop all his doubts to believe something so ridiculous? It didn't make any sense. No matter how weird things were there _had_ to be another explanation. But if that were true, where was it? Virgil became baffled with the fact that all his thoughts led to the conclusion of magic. It was as if all his rational thinking had been thrown out the window. He couldn't find it anywhere. Whether he wanted to or not, he believed in magic. The thought locked into his head, an impenetrable cage that had no key. He didn't quite know how it got there in the first place.

Logan's voice pulled him out of his frustrated stump. Not that it addressed him in any way, but because it was something new to focus on. Any distraction was a welcomed distraction. “I never liked the 1920s hairstyle.” Logan frowned at his reflection. “It's ridiculous how tedious it is.”

“I don't know. I think it suits you.” Patton glanced at him. “Makes you look all professional.”

“Well, it's certainly not something I prefer on you.” Logan closed the visor. “I much prefer seeing your hobbit hair all over the place.”

Patton gasped, offended. _"_ _Hobbit_ hair? I'm insulted.”

Logan looked to him with a small smirk. “You're not exactly Legolas, Patton.”

“Oh you know I'm more like Legolas than Frodo.”

Thomas cupped his hands around his mouth. “Nerds.”

Logan turned to face Thomas. “You shouldn't even be talking. You're the reason we know those references in the first place.”

Roman snorted and Virgil bit his lip to not emit a similar sound.

“Aw, remember when you made us read those books to you?” Patton chirped. “Always in order starting with The Hobbit.”

“Not to mention the movies,” Logan added.

“Oh how cute.” Roman put his hands on his chest. “Two nerds raising a baby nerd.”

Virgil hid his smile behind his hand.

Thomas grimaced and sunk down in his seat. The tips of his ears turned pink. “When you two are Picani you’re somehow less embarrassing.” He crossed his arms.

The rest of the car made jokes at his expense. Patton and Logan continued to be extra embarrassing while Roman and Virgil teased him about it. It caused his whole face to be bright red by the end of the trip. He would have run out of the car if either Roman or Virgil weren’t there.

They made their way up the stairs to the house. Thomas complained about being attacked by adults and how they were meant to be responsible. It was all in good fun, however.

Thomas went straight to the couch and plopped himself down. He crossed his arms like a pouty child. “I can’t believe I’ve been bullied.”

Patton shook his head. “We’re doing it out of love.” He sat down next to Thomas. “Now give me your face.” He held out his hands in anticipation.

Thomas rolled his eyes but complied anyway. Patton’s palms emitted a soft, blue glow -- the opposite of the intensity to the one in the manufacturing plant. He placed them on the sides of Thomas’s face for a moment or two. When he removed them, the red bruise had disappeared.

“Patton,” Logan warned. He gave him a serious look.

“What?” Patton placed his hands in his lap. “The cat’s already out of the bag. Might as well make the most of it.”

“Can’t argue with that, Logan.” Thomas rubbed his cheeks. “I love it when you heal me. It makes my skin all smooth.” He squished his face. “So I guess that means I forgive you.”

As much as Virgil loved the domesticity going on, he wanted to put an end to this disastrous night. He had his fill of shattering revelations and didn’t want to think any more of it. Picani being a fusion? Sure. Magic is real? Fine, whatever. Patton using said magic right in front of him as if it was nothing? That needed a little more processing power.

He had many questions swirling in his head about magic and he didn’t want to dwell on any of them. If he slept long enough then maybe they would go away. One could only hope.

Logan sighed in an irritation that Virgil could connect with. “What time is it?” He put his hand in his pocket. Confusion crossed his face. He searched his other pockets. “Patton, where’s our phone?”

Roman jumped. “Oh, I have it.” He handed it over.

Logan hesitated before taking it.

“Thanks,” Patton responded. It had a similar equivalence as two people saying the same thing at the same time. Was that a side effect of being fused for so long? Or perhaps that’s just how they were.

Virgil put his head in his hands. All this thinking was going to give him whiplash. “Please tell me this day is over.”

“It’s approaching midnight, so I’d say so.” Logan dropped the phone into his jacket pocket. “Thomas, you need to stop keeping us up at ungodly hours.”

“It’s only midnight.” Thomas gasped and sat up straight. “We should have a sleepover.”

“What?” Logan and Virgil both voiced their discontent.

“I’m down.” Roman grinned.

Virgil whipped his head to give Roman a look. “Uh, no. If you’re down then I have to be down because you’re my ride home.”

“Well, sucks to your ass-mar.”

If Thomas didn’t speak then Virgil might have smacked Roman upside the head for that ridiculous comment. “C’mon, Virgil, it’ll be fun. We can all watch movies and eat popcorn.” He brought out his puppy eyes. “Please? Just for tonight and then you can leave as soon as you wake up.”

Virgil tried to ignore the pull in him to say yes.

“Thomas, you can’t expect us to stay up with you that whole time.” Logan crossed his arms. “It’s unnecessary to stay awake as long as we are now let alone for the length of a couple movies.”

“What?” Patton leaned back on the couch with a smirk. “Do you not think you can handle it, old man?”

Roman and Thomas let out a soft “ooh” and Virgil’s eyes widened at the snide remark.

Logan looked offended. “Old man?” He uncrossed his arms. “That’s a bold word choice coming from you.”

Patton shrugged. “I’m just saying. You can’t handle staying up past your bedtime ‘cause you’re so old.”

“I --” Logan sputtered for a moment. He huffed. “I can handle it and you know it.”

Patton smirked and leaned forward. “Then prove it.”

So that’s how Virgil was forced to spend the night at Picani’s. He didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would. They all got into pajamas (Roman and Virgil had to borrow some from Thomas and Picani respectively) and sat around in the living room to watch whatever they could find on Netflix.

Roman, Virgil, and Thomas had to start it off since Logan and Patton insisted on taking a shower to rid themselves of the oils in their hair. Of course, that meant that by the time they got out, the floor had been littered with popcorn. It wasn’t because the three had no self-control or anything and decided to have a popcorn fight. Nope. Roman and Virgil were certified adults™.

Regardless, a fun time was had by all. They watched anything but scary movies until four in the morning. Well three of them did. Patton and Logan passed out on the loveseat together at around three thirty. Turns out neither of them was very good at staying up past their bedtime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are ready for a lot of disgusting fluff between Logan and Patton :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas has some wonderful ideas (and the Disaster Gay Trio is born)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna help me name this AU? Check me out on Tumblr @sonicrainicorn or just comment your ideas :)

When Virgil woke up on the floor he felt two different things. One, confusion, because waking up between Thomas and Roman in a living room that wasn’t his isn’t what he expected to happen first thing in the morning. Two, crushing disappointment, since that meant that last night wasn’t some weird fever dream he could shake out.

He sighed and sat up, noticing that both Thomas and Roman were very close to him. Two koalas. He contemplated taking a picture to tease them later but decided that would be too much effort without immediate access to his phone. So he wiggled out from between them and scooted out toward the coffee table. Well, that answered the question of where his phone went. As he stretched, he saw that the two lovebirds weren’t in the room at all.

“It’s not a good idea.” Logan.

“Why not?” Virgil could almost hear the frown in Patton’s voice. “They know magic exists.”

“Yes, but they don’t know things like you exist.” Logan paused. ”It’s best to take this one step at a time so as not to overwhelm them.”

Virgil decided that he had enough cryptic talk and stood up. They needed to shut up before they said something he didn’t want to hear. He had enough revelations to last his entire lifetime.

Logan’s eyes caught onto him first. His diverted attention then caused Patton to turn and look, then promptly bring out a large smile. Virgil couldn’t help but return it with a smaller one. It was a bit impossible to resist. He tiptoed around the two sleeping figures to get to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Virgil,” Patton chirped, curly hair bouncing from his movements. “You’re up early.”

Patton and Logan looked as if they rolled out of bed five minutes ago. Patton’s smile didn’t shine as bright as it did the night before and Logan’s eyes had a dullness to them that reminded Virgil of a pool on the last night of summer. Their rather sad appearance was doubled by the fact that they had to wear Picani’s pajamas -- which were nowhere near their size.

“Early?” Virgil furrowed his brows. He didn’t think to check the time before getting up. “What time is it?”

Both Logan and Patton glanced at the oven. “Seven,” they answered at the same time.

The part of Virgil’s brain that runs on anxiety and fear tried not to link that to the twins from  _ The Shining _ . “So then when did you guys wake up?” He walked up to the bar and took a seat next to Patton.

“An hour ago, I think,” Patton answered. He mussed up his hair. “Logan’s biological clock doesn’t allow for sleeping in.” He sighed wistfully. “I hoped I would actually get more sleep now that we’re not Picani, but I guess that was wishful thinking.”

“You could have gone back to sleep.” Logan turned to a cabinet across from them. “I wasn’t stopping you.” He had to go on his toes to reach the kettle resting on the shelf.

Patton made a half-hearted noise and put his head in his hand.

The three had to wait an hour or so until Roman and Thomas woke up. They slumped into the kitchen looking like someone insulted their dog. Apparently, more than five hours of sleep was needed for them. It seemed as if no one in the house could survive off of the bare minimum of rest like Virgil. Though he wasn’t sure if that was an accomplishment or not.

Patton and Logan made breakfast for the sleepy drama nerds while they sulked in their chairs. They sat on either side of Virgil who decided to hold off on his comments toward them for now. They might have thrown something at him. So he smirked to himself and hid it by sipping on his tea. He wasn’t in the mood for dodging projectiles.

After about ten minutes Thomas acted more awake. Roman still seemed pouty, but that was a condition Virgil often saw on him. He even voiced that and received a childish mocking of his words in return. A rather uncharacteristic action.

“Oh my goodness,” Patton’s outburst caused everyone else to jump. Virgil almost dropped his mug. “Logan.” He grabbed onto said man’s arm. “What are we supposed to do about work?”

Logan stared at him in confusion. “What are you --?” His eyes widened in realization. “We’re not Picani.”

Patton nodded, concern all over his face. “We can’t show up if we’re not the right person.”

“Can’t you try, uh, fusing? Again?” Virgil couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth. This must be some weird Twilight Zone.

“We tried earlier this morning.” Logan set down his mug. “It didn’t work.”

“How  _ does _ it work, anyway?” Roman asked. “Is it a magic thing?”

Logan turned to Patton, who gave him a lopsided smile as if to urge him to explain. “Uh, let’s look at it in a way that will make sense,” Logan started after a moment’s hesitation. It didn’t seem as if he was sure of talking about this in the first place. “What’s a good thing to compare it to? Steven Universe?”

“Or Dragon Ball Z.” Patton piped up. “There’s fusion in that too.”

Logan stared at him for a moment. “Yes, but we don’t need objects to do it.”

“Well there’s also the other one,” Thomas joined, “where they do the thing.” He stuck out two of his fingers and leaned to the side.

“That’s closer, but still not what happens.” Logan paused, looking between Patton and Thomas, before continuing. “The best comparison is through Steven Universe. Many of the components are the same, although a bit difficult to describe.”

“So it’s a magic thing,” Roman deadpanned.

“That’s a loose way of putting it,” Logan agreed, though somewhat miffed about it. “Its main component is magic, yes, but the two involved have to have an equilibrium. There can’t be any Malachites.” That sentence seemed to leave a sour taste in Logan’s mouth.

“At least one person has to be a magic being of some kind,” Patton continued with a smile. “Those types of fusions tend to be a lot harder to keep up, but it’s still possible. It’s easy with two beings of magic.”

Virgil leaned over the bar. “So if only one of you has to have magic, why can’t you do it?”

Patton and Logan looked at each other. “We don’t know.” They said it in perfect unison with almost an exact tone in their voice. That  _ must _ have been a side effect of being fused for so long. There couldn’t have been any other explanation.

Their moment of silence was cut off by a ringtone. The phone resting on the counter lit up and created that awful vibrating noise against the granite. Patton squeaked and picked it up. “It’s the office.” He stared at it with a mixture of panic and dread. “Answer it.” He thrust it into Logan’s hands. “You’re better at mimicry than I am.”

“What? I can’t.” He handed it back to Patton. “I don’t have my magic. Besides, you always do voices better than me.”

Patton whined. “But you know how I feel about it.”

Thomas reached over and plucked the phone out of Patton’s hands. He answered it despite Logan and Patton’s silent protests. “Hello?” Logan looked like he wanted to die. “No, I’m sorry, Dr. Picani can’t come to the phone right now.” He gave them a thumbs up. “Yes, this is him… It’s great to hear you again, too… Oh, no, he’s -- uh -- he’s kind of indisposed.”

Virgil felt that was a bit of an understatement. Try not even in existence.

“I mean he’s fine, kind of,” he looked between Logan and Patton. “He just might not be able to come into work for a while… Yeah… I'll be sure to tell him… Uh-huh… Well, I’m sure he’ll call you when he’s back together --” He froze -- “Uh, I mean --” Logan smacked his forehead and Patton’s face twisted into a grimace. “Okay gotta go, bye.” He hung up as fast as he could.

“That went well,” Roman commented.

Thomas pouted. “Rafaela said she hopes you feel better.” He handed the phone back to Patton.

Patton stared at it before sliding it into his pajama pants pocket.

Logan rubbed his face. “You'd think you would be better at lying by now.”

“It just slipped out,” Thomas responded. “I didn't mean it.” He stared down at his plate, messing with his fork. “It wasn’t that noticeable, was it?”

Patton nudged Logan with his elbow. Logan looked somewhat annoyed until Patton inclined his head at Thomas. He stared at him before letting out a silent sigh. “We might have some explaining to do when we get back,” he gave a small smile. “But I think we’re fine for now.”

Thomas appeared to relax at that.

After breakfast, Thomas, Roman, and Virgil sat around in their pajamas. They couldn’t be bothered to get dressed yet. What would be the point? They didn’t have anywhere to be. So they sat on the floor around the coffee table to play Uno. Thomas extended the invitation to Patton and Logan, but the two didn’t show interest.

The cards that they were playing with were old. Not quite worn out, though also not in the best condition. They showed evidence of use, but not to the extent of the age they looked. The box looked as if it had seen more action. Many of the colors had faded from years of existence and corners had been rounded off.

Roman even pointed out that the cards were quite vintage. Which indeed they were. In addition to their wear, the style was unlike the more modern cards.

“Uh, yeah.” Thomas put down a red four. “They're from the late seventies -- early eighties -- if I remember correctly.” He smiled a bit at Virgil's scowl.

Virgil had the smallest hand at three cards. Not one of them was red or a four. He grabbed one from the deck. A yellow three. He grumbled with discontent and picked up another one.

“Wait are you serious?” Roman put down a corresponding card when Virgil reached the max draw limit. “These are, like, originals? We’re handling antique cards right now?” His eyes sparkled with genuine awe.

“They’re not that old.” Thomas put down a draw four. “Blue.”

Virgil didn’t hesitate to put down his own draw four. “Green.”

The spark in Roman’s eyes died as he sulked and drew eight cards, forfeiting his turn. “Well, it’s still up to forty years ago.”

Thomas drew a card. “Is that considered old?” He took another card then flipped it onto the discard pile.

“Most people would think so.” Virgil pulled out a reverse from his hand.

“Do you think so?” Thomas put down a reverse of a different color.

Virgil responded by pulling out another reverse of the original color.

Roman watched the exchange with slight annoyance. “It’s older than us, at least.” He shifted his seating. “And Uno wasn’t a well-known commercial product until 1977 -- which means that these might very well be some of the first ever mass produced Uno cards.” He was able to participate in the game again. “So, yeah, kinda old.”

Virgil paused to give Roman a strange look. “Why do you know that?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Thomas drew a card from the deck. “Hm, well, it’s kinda hard to tell what’s considered old sometimes.” He drew another card. “Age can be pretty meaningless after a while.” He had to draw another card.

“That was kinda poignant.” Virgil couldn’t help but give Thomas a look of concern. A kid that young shouldn’t think of age like that. “Why do you have cards this old, anyway?” He sighed at the draw two card that had been laid before him.

“Oh, Picani bought it for --” He cut himself off. His eyes lingered on the box beside him before bringing them back up. “Fun.”

“On the subject of Picani,” Roman put down another draw two. “How old are Patton and Logan, really?”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”

The three on the ground jumped and turned toward Logan’s voice. He and Patton walked into the living room dressed in their clothes from yesterday, though with fewer layers. Patton abandoned his vest and tie along with his hat. Logan shed his jacket and vest but kept on his tie. They still didn’t quite look like they were in the right time period.

“It’s older than anyone you might know, that’s for sure.” Patton started rolling up his sleeves. “We’ve been around for a while.”

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Why are you still dressed like that?” Thomas asked.

“We didn’t exactly expect to be split up any time soon.” Logan put his hands on his hips. “There isn't a wide selection to choose from.”

“And we can’t really fit into things Picani wears,” Patton added.

Thomas gasped and shot up, slamming his Uno cards onto the table. “We should go shopping.” He beamed at them. “All of us -- together.”

Patton seemed to entertain the idea while Logan frowned. “For what reason?” He asked.

“Well…” Thomas looked between Roman and Virgil as if he didn’t want to speak directly to Logan. “I know you don’t really wanna think about it, but you’re not gonna be able to form Picani for a while.” He moved his eyes back up. “Might as well make the best out of a bad situation and go look for clothes that you’re undoubtedly going to need with friends.”

“I can get behind that,” Roman added, making Virgil want to roll his eyes.

Logan didn’t appear convinced. “As true as that may seem, I don’t see how we’ll need Roman and Virgil with us.”

“Oh come on, loganberry,” Patton took one of his arms. “It’ll be fun. Besides,” He pulled Logan close to whisper something into his ear.

Logan scrunched up his nose. “I hate it when you’re right.” Patton pulled away with a large grin. “It reminds me that I have feelings.” He turned his attention to the other three. “Fine, Thomas, we’ll go along with your idea.”

In order for them to leave, Thomas, Roman, and Virgil had to be dressed. Unfortunately for Virgil, he had to put on his work clothes. His work clothes weren’t the best things to go out in public with. They were just some grubby things only ever seen in the dark of night. Not to mention they might have smelled a bit like alcohol. Hey, accidents happened.

Roman complained that wearing the exact same outfit in a row was a crime -- what if he saw someone he knew? He couldn’t have that. Logan and Virgil told him to shut up. It wouldn’t be the end of the world no matter who he saw.

“You don’t have any room to talk,” Roman complained. “You’ve worn the same outfit for over ninety years.”

Upon spotting the murder in Logan’s eyes, Patton had to diffuse the situation. Though Virgil would have paid good money to see that fight.

Regardless, the five of them piled into the car to leave. They went to the nearest clothing store, shooting down Roman and Thomas’s idea of going to a mall. There would have been too much effort for something that they could do without leaving the city limits. Logan and Virgil were not in the mood for large crowds of people, anyway. Patton, on the other hand, promised to do it another time.

Virgil couldn’t imagine how chaotic a mall trip would be with all five of them. Doing it with Picani might have been fine, but with Patton and Logan, things were different. It was clear Logan was the reasonable and sensible part of Picani while Patton was the carefree and nurturing part. That meant that the “please-don’t-do-that-dangerous-thing” team consisted of two while the “let’s-run-around-and-not-think-of-consequences” team moved up to three. Without Picani there wasn’t balance. And Virgil knew for a fact his team would lose if Logan’s interactions with Patton were anything to go by.

In the short time span that they had appeared, it became obvious that Patton and Logan knew each other like the back of their hand. They knew what buttons to push, what words to say -- and Patton seemed to know how to do it best. He could just  _ look _ at Logan and he would be swayed. That didn’t fare well for stopping dumb ideas.

The small group entered the store. It made Virgil feel like he was on some weird field trip. Two men of an unknown age, two adults, and one teenager. That must have looked a bit odd.

Thomas gasped suddenly. “I have an idea.” He grabbed Logan's arm and started pulling him in a direction away from the group. “You two take Patton. Have fun bye.” He left before anyone could say otherwise.

Patton stood there, somehow seeming smaller without Logan by his side, and gave Roman and Virgil a nervous smile. “So, uh, you guys wanna help me pick out clothes?”

The trio wandered around with Roman leading. He seemed to have basic ideas of what Patton should be wearing. Virgil didn't care all that much. Fashion wasn't his thing. All he did was give a thumbs up or down if he thought something was good or ridiculous. They took his opinions with a grain of salt.

There were too many options for everything. Virgil didn't know how Roman cared so much. Patton also didn't seem to quite understand, but he was supportive regardless. He more often than not agreed with Virgil if a specific item was a bit too, uh, much. Patton preferred the calmer, cutesy approach whereas Roman went loud and bold. They kind of conflicted a bit. Which, Virgil supposed, is why Thomas put them together. Virgil could balance them out. Or perhaps he did it as some form of torture.

No one could predict how long Patton and Logan would remain unfused, so they decided to pick out outfits for a few days. Roman and Patton even started planning out certain outfits for certain days, with way too much thought and effort in Virgil’s opinion.

After what felt like an eternity, they had a substantial amount of clothing for Patton to try on. They looked for a dressing room and stumbled onto one with Thomas. He sat on a bench in the waiting area. Upon spotting them, he gained a wide smile and waved them over.

“How'd it go?” He asked them.

“Fantastic,” Virgil quipped. 

Roman glared at him. “Don't bother with Jason Toddler over there. It went fine, right Patton?”

Patton nodded with a smile. “Hey, um,” he looked around the room, “where's Logan?”

“Trying stuff on.” Thomas's eyes ignited with something in an instant. He jumped up. “Sit down.” He ushered the three to the bench. “I'll be right back.” He walked over to one of the rooms and knocked on the door. “Logan?”

“What?”

“Can I come in for a second?” He smiled at the confused men on the bench. The door opened just enough for Thomas to slip through.

No one said anything as they waited for Thomas to come back out. Virgil didn't know what he had in mind, but he felt it could be devious. Thomas had a tendency to do that from time to time.

He slipped out the door. Before he closed it, he ducked his head back in to whisper something. The words couldn't be deciphered. “Sorry about that.” He hopped over to the bench. “I had an idea.”

“You've been bursting with ideas today,” Patton noted. 

Thomas smiled and nodded in response.

Virgil couldn't help but feel a bit suspicious. Why would he have an idea that involved Logan in the dressing room? He didn't say. Something about a surprise? That was a little odd. 

They didn't have to wait too long to find out, however. The door to Logan's dressing room opened up. He stepped out wearing a whole new outfit -- a drastic change to what he wore before.

He had on a blue and black flannel with a black t-shirt and jeans. He didn't have his glasses on, giving an unobstructed view of his eyes. They matched the dark blue on his flannel. His hair was askew from taking off and pulling on shirts. Honestly, the whole thing was Virgil's aesthetic. The casual look with the messy hair punched him in the gut.

“Thomas insisted that I show you this one,” Logan swept his bangs to the side and slipped on his glasses. Virgil might as well have been murdered. “For whatever reason.”

“What do you think?” Thomas dragged Logan closer to them. “I picked it out myself.” He beamed with pride.

Virgil glanced at Roman and Patton to see that they, too, lost their higher thinking functions. Sheesh, they were all gay disasters. Virgil wanted to speak up -- so at least  _ someone _ could answer -- but couldn’t find the words to do so. All he could think about was “oh no he’s hot” over and over.

“Good,” Roman cleared his throat. “That’s… it’s good.” He put his hand over his mouth.

Virgil nodded in agreement.

Logan raised a brow at their reactions and Virgil had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from sucking in a breath. This man was far too attractive for his own good.

“Patton?” Thomas asked. “Do you have an opinion?”

Patton snapped out of his daze. “What? Uh,” He blinked a few times. “Yes. It’s -- you look -- um. How is it said in English?” He continued to fumble over his words. “Nice! Let’s go with that.”

Thomas smirked a bit. “You can go back now, Logan.”

The three men’s eyes followed him all the way back to the room. Turns out that view was just as good as the front.

“Hey!” Thomas snapped his fingers in front of their faces to gain their attention. “Watch where you’re looking. There's a child present.”

Virgil’s face got warm. Roman cleared his throat again and pretended to gaze somewhere else. Patton stood up. “I should go, um, try stuff on.” He scurried into an unoccupied dressing room with his bundle of clothes.

Thomas took his spot. He leaned back so that he could rest against the wall. “You know,” he broke the silence with a low tone. “I really only wanted to see how flustered Patton got.” He crossed his arms. “I didn’t expect you two to have a reaction.” The two in question turned to him, but he had his eyes trained on the far wall.

“You’re just lucky Patton didn’t see you. As much as he loves you guys, I don’t think he’d appreciate how you looked at Logan.” He glanced between them. “If he saw you, then you might have had to start running. And, trust me, he’s a lot scarier than he looks.” He smiled. “Just so you know.”

Well, vague, intimidating warning duly noted in Virgil’s book. Do not get caught staring at the attractive wizard. Easy enough. That made sense, anyway; Patton and Logan had been together for… he didn’t know how long. At least a hundred years. If that wasn’t commitment then he didn’t know what was.

“Um, we’ll keep that in mind.” Roman shifted.

The three sat there in an awkward silence. Virgil found it awkward at least. He didn’t know about Roman, but he was getting some harsh vibes from Thomas. Something along the lines of “don’t mess with my OTP”. Not that Virgil knew what that meant or anything. He didn’t have any of those.  _ But _ \-- he did get where Thomas was coming from.

His parents divorced when he was ten. He lived with his mom, his dad moved out of state, blah, blah, blah. Same old story. He hated to repeat it. Anyway, his mom got her first boyfriend three years after. Virgil had a great dislike for him right away. In hindsight, nothing was wrong with him -- he was a nice guy -- but young Virgil didn’t want anyone to replace his dad. He didn’t know why his mom and dad split up anyway. They didn’t fight, neither of them cheated. As far as he knew, nothing was wrong.

So he refused to see his mom with anyone else. She got boyfriend after boyfriend trying to find someone Virgil would get along with. He didn’t approve of any of them. Most of them were nice, a few were not, but at the end of the day, he couldn’t see anyone else with his mother beside his dad. They were supposed to be together. They were meant to be together. No one else should have been with his mom because they weren’t his dad.

Of course, now that all seemed rather silly, but back then it was a pretty big deal. Thomas didn’t want anyone getting between his mom and his dad. Er, his dad and his dad. In this case.

Not that Roman or Virgil had any intentions of doing so. Virgil would never ruin something so precious and Roman was a true gentleman. They were both just… really gay. Like, if you see some fine artwork you have to appreciate it, right? And wow did Logan look -- um -- Virgil wasn’t going to go down that route.

The three didn’t mention it when Patton and Logan were finished. They made a silent agreement not to bring it up ever again. Thomas made his point very clear.

After all was said and done, the group headed out. Thomas chatted to Patton and Logan about various little things while Roman and Virgil stayed in the back. They resigned themselves to observing the interactions between the three in front of them. Much to Virgil’s surprise, Roman also decided to do so in silence. A bit strange, but Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

From an outside perspective, it would seem as if the three were a little family. Two dads and their kid. A rather dramatic shift from Picani who acted more like an older brother. But then that brought up the question… what were Patton and Logan to Thomas? If the two of them apart were parents but together they were an older sibling, then what was the real relation? Thomas called Picani his legal guardian. Not his cousin or uncle or anything. A guardian.

Then that brought up another question: why did Thomas need a guardian? He said Picani -- and in turn, Patton and Logan -- was his only family. So where did everyone else go? Why did these ninety-something-year-olds (who still looked mid-twenties for some reason? Another question for another time) become in charge of a seventeen-year-old boy? How did they get together in the first place? Who decided this?

Thomas was comfortable with them -- and Picani -- as if he knew them all his life. As if there hadn't been a time where they weren't there. It didn't clear up any questions, but it made Virgil relax a little.

If Thomas could smile and joke and lower his guard so easily around them then that meant everything was fine. Of course, Virgil would need a lot of his questions answered before he let himself be completely comfortable around them, but it was nice to know they could be trusted. They seemed nice. Plus, Thomas was willing to put up a defensive front for them, so that probably meant they were worth getting to know.

Virgil glanced at Roman. He seemed lost in thought. About what, Virgil couldn't say, and he didn't want to make any assumptions. Though it appeared he felt Virgil's eyes on him as he dropped his serious expression and turned his attention toward him. “Enjoying the view?”

Virgil scowled at him. “In your dreams, Princey.”

Roman grinned.

The group made it back to the car without any murder happening. Which was a rather big accomplishment. So they decided to get lunch. Well, Thomas suggested it and no one wanted to disagree with him.

“So what are you guys in the mood for?” Thomas asked as Patton closed the trunk. Since they were already in town, they decided to walk to their next destination. “There’s Royal Panda, The Pepper Knight, Fran’s Garden.”

“We’re not going anywhere fancy,” Virgil cut in at the sight of Roman visibly getting excited about that last one. He didn’t feel dressed for that. “So don’t even think about it, Roman.”

Roman pouted and crossed his arms.

Thomas smiled. “We could go to Skylines.”

Virgil and Roman agreed with that. Patton and Logan had interesting reactions to it. Logan seemed to perk up a bit -- a trace of what Virgil could call excitement lighting up his features. Patton visibly cringed.

“Isn’t Skylines the diner where it’s mostly, uh,” Patton seemed to search for the right word. “Meat?” He didn’t look too pleased.

“There are other options,” Logan spoke before Thomas could even get a word out. “Please just let me have this.” He put his hand on Patton’s shoulder. This was the first time Virgil and Roman had ever seen his face as something other than annoyed or stoic -- he was almost begging. “I haven’t had a hamburger in -- well -- I've never had one.”

Patton's face screwed up. “That can’t be true. There was… uh,” he paused to count on his fingers. “Wait were hamburgers the ones invented in the 1800s?”

“Yes.”

Patton's face twisted further into discontent. “Oh shoot, you’re right.” He stared at Logan for a moment or two before sighing. “Fine, we can go.”

Logan squealed in excitement, surprising everyone, before clearing his throat and regaining his professional manner. “Satisfactory. Let us be on our way.” He started walking toward the direction of the diner.

Thomas giggled and followed suit. Patton sighed again but went with them anyway. Roman smiled at them before also joining.

“Wait a minute,” Virgil muttered under his breath. “Did he say something about the 1800s?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to be going too smoothly, don't they?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil asks for more exposition and once again gains more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU still needs a proper name! Shoot your ideas over on Tumblr @sonicrainicorn. I'd love to hear from you guys :)

Skylines was a cute diner at the end of the street. The theme, of course, was city skylines. The walls were painted in a continuous shadowed skyline with a pinkish sunset. There were a few picture frames with various city skylines. New York, Seattle, Los Angeles, and a few others. There weren’t many people inside, but that wasn’t a problem.

The group walked up to the counter to order. Patton was reluctant to order anything and only did so since Logan urged him to. Once paid for (by Logan) Thomas chose a booth in a corner they could sit at. They chatted about random topics until their food came.

“So,” Roman started. Virgil could somehow sense that something stupid was going to come out of his mouth, “Patton. Not a fan of meat?”

Patton paused in the middle of pulling out a cheesy fry to grimace. “Not exactly.”

“Any particular reason?” Virgil messed with his straw.

Patton shrugged. “Just can’t eat it.”

“Which means  _ I _ can’t eat it,” Logan added. Half of his burger was already gone. “I’ve gone far too many years without having meat consistently in my diet. It’s the biggest downside to being fused all the time.”

Patton’s expression turned sour. Something between a pout and a scowl. “You act like you weren’t able to eat meat at all -- you still could.”

“Barely. Not like this.” Logan emphasized the burger in his hands. “Picani wouldn’t be able to eat a hamburger without getting sick -- he can barely handle chicken.”

“I think you’re exaggerating a little.” It was clear Patton didn’t like this discussion. He turned a bit defensive.

“Well, why don’t we find out?” Thomas said with a simper. He held up one of his chicken nuggets. “If you’re able to eat this then that means Logan is exaggerating, but if you can’t, then he’s right.” He extended it toward Patton. “What do you say?”

Patton stared at it. He hesitated before reaching out and taking it. He held it for a while before covering his mouth and handing it back to Thomas, head shaking.

“You didn’t even bite it,” Thomas said with a bit of disappointment. He frowned at it.

Patton retracted his hand enough to say “I just --” Then he returned it. “I can’t.” He shook his head again.

Thomas offered it to Logan, who took it gratefully. “I never realized that you really couldn’t eat meat. I thought it was just a choice.”

Patton shrugged and that was the end of that.

Virgil would have been fine if these silly antics continued, but it couldn’t be that simple. With his mind now relaxed, the worries of the previous day decided to come rushing in. All former questions and concerns pushed toward the surface and he was reminded that yesterday  actually _did_ happen.

Dr. Emile Picani -- therapist and local dork -- was just a relationship. A manifestation of two people’s love. Like Garnet. And when he put it that way, Virgil didn’t know how he couldn’t see it before. Picani and Garnet were very much alike. A strong bond between two people that could hold with little effort, but pressure and a tough argument could make them break. And the broken halves became Logan and Patton in Picani’s case. Virgil may have believed them, though that didn’t mean he could be a hundred percent okay with the whole thing. Issue number one.

Issue number two, and honestly the more pressing of the two, was the Figments. Picani had said that they follow commands and don’t stop until it is completed. There were three times that Virgil knew of where Thomas had to be saved from Figments, and it was too much of a coincidence that he went missing after that. Was their command the whole time to take Thomas? If so, why? What would they gain? Not just that, but Picani also said that they came from the same place. The manufacturing plant. The smoke. That strange man.

They had to be connected in some way. They couldn’t not be. Ugh, this was too much for Virgil to think about alone. If he kept everything inside then he might explode.

He chewed on his straw and gazed at the rest of the group. Roman seemed comfortable with the two Picani halves. Virgil didn’t expect any different. He learned over the weeks that Roman was a strong believer in fairy tales and happy endings. Things a normal human adult would have dropped by now. But he was a dreamer and he liked to hold onto his fantasies.

His gaze shifted to Patton and Logan. In the few hours that Virgil had known them, he learned quite a bit. Patton was sweet and adorable. Not just in terms of appearance, but personality wise as well. He’d make anyone want to pinch his cheeks. He was honest and trusting and very optimistic. Logan wasn’t so much his opposite as he was his counterpart. He brought realism into the picture. He was a lot more closed off than Patton, using a strict no-nonsense front to protect himself. And Virgil could tell it was a front. He was experienced with those. Regardless, they complimented each other. It was no wonder they made a person like Picani.

Then their ward, Thomas. With as friendly and open as Thomas was, Virgil managed to gather the least on him. He seemed like any other kid. A bit naive, sure, but what kid wasn’t? He had compassion and enthusiasm for everything and everyone. Nothing stuck out. No magic or any other weirdness. He was just a normal kid with a big heart. It raised more questions on how Picani became his guardian or why the Figments were after him in the first place.

Virgil set down his cup. A glance around the diner proved that they were mostly alone, save for the employees at the counter. He took a deep breath. “Alright.” The others stopped to give him their attention. “I don’t want to be the one to ruin everyone’s mood, but I feel like we need to address what happened yesterday.”

Silence.

“What part of yesterday?” Thomas piped up slowly. He seemed nervous.

“All of it, I’m guessing,” Roman answered before Virgil could. They shared a look. Mutual understanding passed between them. Maybe Roman wasn’t so accepting of all of this as Virgil thought.

The other three remained silent. Each of them wore a different expression varying from nervousness to rigid. That succeeded in making Virgil more paranoid. He might not be ready for the information he could be receiving.

“Well, I guess if you --” Thomas tried to start, expression never leaving the uncertainty.

“Thomas,” Logan warned. His eyelids slipped closed for a moment. “That might not be the best decision. Remember the last time you told someone a secret you shouldn’t have.”

Patton frowned at that.

“I…” Thomas floundered. He moved his mouth, as if wanting words to escape, but nothing did. He huffed and crossed his arms, turning away to glare at the wall. Virgil tried not to notice how quickly the anger shifted to remorse.

“Logan,” Patton used a similar warning tone.

“Patton,” Logan responded.

_ “ Droakleti ithíos. ” _

Logan’s eyes snapped open and turned to him in blatant surprise. Even Thomas turned back in shock. Patton didn’t give them a chance to say anything. “You can’t plan to keep this from them forever, can you? I was okay with it before, but now they’re too far into our world. They’ve seen things they shouldn’t have and deserve an explanation for it.”

“That’s never worked out for us before.” Logan’s hand shifted to the center of his chest as if pressing down on a reminder.

“But keeping it a secret never has either.” Patton grabbed Logan’s hand and clasped it between his own. “The last time we had a chance to tell someone we trusted we waited too long. I know it’s something that we both regret, which is why we should learn from our mistakes.” He looked at Roman and Virgil with a smile. “We can trust them.” He turned back to Logan. “I know we can.”

“They wouldn’t be here right now if they weren’t trustworthy,” Thomas added. “They could have left the moment they found out what you two really are.”

Logan still appeared apprehensive. He stared at Patton, eyes searching his face, before moving them to Thomas, who didn’t meet his gaze. He sighed. “Fine.” Upon noticing the two light up, he continued, “On the one condition we do it somewhere private.” His gaze lingered on the girl at the cash register who had been counting change an unnecessary amount of times.

“I second that,” Virgil said.

No one else said a word until they got to Picani’s house. They took their respective seating, but Thomas had to take the armchair.

“So what do you wanna know?” Patton broke the silence.

“As much as you’re willing to tell me,” Virgil answered.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific,” Logan said. “It’ll be easier to take in, and to explain, if you break it down into chunks. You wouldn’t want us to, uh, ‘word vomit’ on foreign topics.”

Virgil took that into consideration. It didn't seem as if Logan was a hundred percent okay with this still, but at least he was complying. “Can you explain fusions further?”

Everyone seemed surprised at that.

“I get that they're a lot like Steven Universe,” he continued. “But it seems that there's something else to them that you haven't mentioned. It's a cartoon thing. So why can you two do it?”

Patton and Logan glanced at each other. “Well,” Patton started. “It's kind of complicated. Different kinds of magic beings have different views on why and how fusions exist.” He gave an awkward smile. “It depends on who you ask.”

“But,” Logan picked it up. “If you look at it through the cartoon perspective, why else does fusion exist? Whether it's Dragon Ball Z or Steven Universe, the purpose is to be stronger. The magic within us allows our bodies and minds to merge into one. Without magic, it wouldn't be possible.”

So Roman was right in assuming that fusion is basically a magic thing. Virgil didn't know what else he expected. A biology lesson?

“You mentioned other views,” Roman spoke up. “How do other people see fusions?”

Logan's hand hovered over the center of his chest for a moment before clenching his fist and setting it in his lap.

Patton put his hand over it. “Well, it's a bit conflicting.” He laughed nervously.

“Garnet's their favorite character for a reason.” Thomas swooped in to save them. “So take that for what you will.”

A rather interesting way to answer, but Virgil wasn't going to complain. This didn't seem like an easy topic for them to talk about. And the way Garnet is seen by certain characters throughout the show, it was understandable. Fusing outside of combat and with two different gems was frowned upon. She could only be herself on Earth with the Crystal Gems. Where the comparison stopped, Virgil wasn't sure, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be an obvious divide.

“To be a bit less vague,” Patton said. “My people believed that fusion could only be achieved through love and it was used only for special occasions. Like marriage.”

Virgil raised a brow at a specific word choice. “Your people?”

Patton’s eyes widened. “Ah, I-I didn’t mean -- I meant like where I’m from. Not like, like I’m implying something. W-which, which I’m not.” The more Patton rambled the more his hands moved. As if that would help him generate proper words to use in response.

Virgil could empathise with that level of panic. In fact, it was almost as if he could feel it. His heart rate quickened and his hands turned cold. He noticed Roman’s leg start bouncing as he fiddled with the end of his shirt. Thomas, who looked content curled up on the armchair five seconds ago, now bit his thumb with furrowed brows. So maybe this wasn’t empathy anxiety.

“Patton,” Logan warned. It didn’t seem as if he was completely immune to the weird nervousness in the air, either. “Calm down.”

“Right.” Patton shut his mouth and folded his hands on his lap.

Then it was like everyone took a collective sigh. Virgil felt his heart settle down, Roman stopped fidgeting, and Thomas dropped his hand. The anxiety was gone as if it had never been there in the first place. Almost as if it wasn’t their own… Nope. Virgil wasn’t going to think about that further. He killed that thought as soon as it popped up.

“Anything else you wish to know?” Logan adjusted his glasses.

Virgil wanted to know a lot. He wanted to know if they fused for love like Garnet. He wanted to know where Patton came from. He wanted to know if there were others like them. Now he understood how Roman felt. But now was not the time for those. “Are the Figments and the old building related?”

Logan hesitated.

“Sort of,” Patton answered. “They’re the reason we ended up there, if that’s what you mean.”

“So they took Thomas?” Roman took their pause as confirmation. “Why?”

Thomas opened his mouth, but Logan ended up answering. “Because,” he gave Thomas a pointed look, “he’s a child who knows a very powerful and frowned upon being. Not to mention he’s seen the ins and outs of the magical world since he was born. And for someone who doesn’t have magic, that’s a bit too much for traditionalists to handle.”

“I thought we agreed to tell them the truth.” Thomas crossed his arms.

“I didn’t agree to anything.” Logan gave him another look. “I agreed to give them information and that is what I did. Besides, are you insinuating that what I said wasn’t the truth?”

Thomas looked unsure if not a little confused. “Well, no --”

“I stated the facts as blatantly as possible. No part of my statement was false, was it?”

“Patton,” Thomas whined. He threw his head dramatically back over the arm of the chair.

“Afraid I agree with Logan on this one, kiddo.” He gave an apologetic smile.

Thomas lifted his head to pout at them. “Don’t you think that they should know all the details after everything that happened?”

“This isn’t about getting in on the loop, Thomas.” Logan frowned. “This is about protecting you. We made a promise to do that and we aren’t going to stop now.”

“We also made a promise to protect people like them.” Patton inclined his head toward Roman and Virgil. “It’s better for the both of you this way.”

“But --” Thomas stopped himself. He saw he wasn’t going to get anywhere with them. “Fine. I guess.” He sunk further into his seat with a small frown.

Virgil couldn’t deny that he wanted to know what they were referring to, but now might not be the best time to bring it up. If Thomas couldn’t convince them then there was no way Virgil could. “Can you tell us anything else about them?” Might as well go for the next best thing.

“Or maybe who you made a promise to?” Roman added hopefully. He shut himself up with a glare from Logan. “Or, y’know, more things about the Figments. That’s fine too.”

The Figments, as mentioned before, were shadows of people long gone. Hollowed out shells of magic users who lost their spark. They’re incapable of feeling and weren’t made to have free will. They’re mindless drones with faces whose backstories have been lost to time. Previously, Picani had the hypothesis of Figments being formed from lost souls; and those souls were being used to carry out dark deeds. But with the information discovered last night, that became untrue. To create a Figment is to steal the magic, and in turn the soul, of a magical being. Unless, of course, you’re Logan whose magic and soul were severed from each other with Patton’s interruption.

The sole reason Figments exist, and the reason Logan lost his magic, is because of Altair. Altair Highmore. Cliche antagonist name aside, he was the rather terrifying man Roman and Virgil saw. He wanted power. As much as he could get. One way to do that, it seemed, was to steal the essence of a magical creature. The more he steals the more power he gets.

“But why?” Roman questioned. “What’s the point of gaining more power if you have to kill your own kind to do it? What’s he trying to prove?”

“He’s trying to fix what he sees as broken.” Logan rubbed at his wrist as if he hurt it somehow. “He thinks enough power will make everyone fall into complacency. As if we can all just forgive the damage that he’s caused.”

Virgil noticed Thomas’s face fall.

“Where does that leave you, then?” Virgil’s voice came out quieter than he meant to. He didn’t know if it was the new information or the sullen look on Thomas’s face, but he had an uncomfortable sense of foreboding crawling up his spine.

Logan looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

Virgil shifted under everyone’s gaze. “I just mean that Altair has to get all of what makes you you in order to kill you off, right?” He couldn’t ignore the way Patton winced. “But what happens if he only has part of you?”

The room fell silent.

No one seemed to know who to look to for an answer.

“That does indeed pose an interesting question,” Logan started, the words falling out in an uncertain cadence. He looked straight at Virgil, and for the first time, Virgil could see how much emotion was hiding behind those round frames. “I suppose only time will tell.”

Virgil didn’t see the point in changing his clothes for work. No one would notice, anyway. And if they did then (for once) he didn’t care. He had better things to worry about.

His mind fell into autopilot as soon as his shift started. Roman wasn’t there to distract him with random topics or handsome men he may have spotted throughout the day. He said something about having to do a photoshoot at eight. That was fine. Virgil didn’t need him to be there every second of every shift. Though he did have to admit that it was a bit lonely after a while. This was the first time in a very long time he didn’t have Roman to provide company.

As the hours droned on, Roman still hadn’t shown up. That was still fine. He had spent a whole day with Virgil after all. He probably needed some space. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. There were many times where Virgil needed some space from people. Nothing was wrong. Not even when Virgil took the closing shift from Jamahl and Roman still hadn’t shown up. Not even as time continued to tick with Roman’s usual spot still empty.

Okay, maybe Virgil was a little worried.

No matter what, Roman always showed up. Even if it was just to have a short vent session. And Virgil knew he liked to vent after a photoshoot. (If things were rough then he’d even ask for shots.) Not hearing from him at all greatly unnerved Virgil.

So as soon as Virgil got the chance, he slipped away to a quiet room to call Roman. He would never admit to growing impatient as the line continued to ring. When the robotic voice told him about the voicemail box, he hung up with a sigh. He frowned down at his screen, which displayed Roman under the name “Disney Reject” and the photo Roman insisted be his contact picture. It was a selfie he had taken when he and Thomas stole Virgil’s phone. He had his tongue sticking out and his hand up in a peace sign. Virgil ended up keeping many of those photos.

He decided to shoot him a text. Nothing that would make him seem stalkerish or concerned, of course. He had a reputation to uphold.

Besides, there was always a chance he was overreacting.

For the first time in many months, Virgil had to close up the bar by himself. It took longer than on average without Roman to help him out, and maybe because he would stop to check his phone as often as he would let himself. It didn’t feel right. Virgil had come to expect a certain routine -- had become dependent on it. Now it was broken. The bar was far too silent now and far too empty.

As he left, at the ripe hour of two in the morning, he had an emptiness he couldn’t explain. He tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t leave him alone. Everything that happened in the past forty-eight hours started catching up to him. Magic and evil and Thomas and Patton and Logan and Figments and -- he could go on for a while. He had so much on his mind. There were new things to worry about. Roman not being where he should have been threw a wrench in Virgil’s system.

He almost didn’t register the person leaning against the wall of a store on his way to the apartment. An immediate red flag went up.  _ They could be a murderer, or a mugger or a -- _ Virgil shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, thankful he had remembered to grab it this time. He held his breath as he passed them. Their hood obscured their face, and the light they stood under shadowed it beyond recognition.

He was about to sigh in relief upon passing them, but their arm shot out and grabbed his sleeve. Virgil jumped and automatically tried to yank his arm back, but the person had a tight grip. So in a moment of eloquence, he said, “What the hell?”

The person moved their head and Virgil could see half of their face. Blank expression. Eyes empty of inner thoughts. Oh fuck.

In a second moment of eloquence, Virgil stuttered out, “You wouldn’t happen to know Altair would you?”

Virgil had just enough time to duck out of the way from its fist.  _ Fight or flight _ . He threw his body back and yanked his arm toward him at the same time. The Figment lost its grip. Virgil took off running. He managed to round the corner to the next block before stopping dead in his tracks. The Figment stood there.

“You’re in really big trouble,” it said to him.

The hairs on the back of Virgil’s neck stood on end. Its voice was off -- almost as if it wasn’t pretending to be human. And maybe it wasn’t. Altair had seen him, after all. “With who?” Virgil found himself asking.

“I think you know.” It took one step forward. Stiff. Unreal. “The Master does not like to be interrupted. And least of all by two humans and their despicable pets.” Its voice came out clipped and awkward -- like someone stringing together audio files. “The Master finds that sham of a person and the tiny runt to be insufferable.” Virgil grew defensive. “A stain on our world.”

“That sham of a person”? “The tiny runt”? Those were Virgil’s friends. What gives anyone a right to say those things about them? They haven’t done anything to earn them those titles. But… “Why would you share this with me?” If Altair was worried about a “stain”, then why let a Figment speak so openly about the magic world? To someone he knew to be a human?

“It isn’t as if you’ll live to speak about it.”

In the time it took Virgil to blink, the Figment fell into an inky mass then shot out toward him. It slammed him into a nearby wall as its form returned. Well, that answered how it got passed him. If Virgil cared enough in this moment, he might have called that cheating.

Instead, he focused more on trying to breathe. His unpleasant meeting with the wall caused the oxygen to escape from his lungs. The Figment had a hold on the front of his jacket, pinning him in place. It didn’t have a tight hold, but he couldn’t escape it as easily as before. The wall kept him trapped.

Then one hand clamped around his neck. How it managed to feel like his windpipe was being crushed by one hand alone, Virgil didn’t know, and he didn’t care to find out.

_ Don’t die. _

Virgil tried to escape.

_ Don’t die. Don’t die. _

There was only so much he could do.

_ Don’t die. Don’t die. Don’t die. Don’t die. _

Virgil brought his leg up as far as he could and kicked it. He hit the Figment with as much force as he could muster. It stumbled enough for its hand to slip off of Virgil’s neck. Virgil would have counted that as a victory and took off, but he saw the slight shift in expression. He pissed it off.

He brought up his leg again and kicked it square in the chest as it tried to charge at him. It smacked straight into the lightpost, the echo of bone on metal ceasing the confrontation. They stared at each other in a tense silence. Then the Figment exploded into black wisps of smoke -- much like the smoke mass from the previous night. It fizzled out like a blown out candle.

What the fuck.

Virgil took in a shaky breath. He tiptoed toward the spot to see if maybe it was tricking him, but no. Nothing was left of it. It disappeared.

“Virgil!”

Virgil screamed and smacked the hand off of him.

“Whoa! Sorry!” Roman held up his hands in surrender. “It’s just me.”

“Roman?!” Virgil put his hand on his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack, you fucking asshole. Where the hell have you been?” As his vision came back from swirling black dots, he saw Roman did not have his normal regal appearance. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks for noticing.” Roman scowled. “You just look so dashing yourself.”

Virgil dropped his hand. His whole body trembled. “I’ve seen worse days. So back to my question.”

Roman sighed. He rubbed his arms to generate some kind of warmth, making Virgil realize that his jacket was missing. “I did the photoshoot at eight like I said. Which, by the way, was made more stressful than it needed to be by the girl’s mother. The girl was so sweet and helpful, but oh my God -- that woman --”

“Roman.”

“Right.” He crossed his arms. “After the shoot everything was fine. The girls left and I packed up everything. Same old, same old. It’s when I went back to my apartment that everything turned to shit.” He frowned. “I got stuck in traffic first, so that wasn’t any fun, then I had to carry my equipment up to my apartment which is always annoying, and after I was supposed to head to the bar like I normally do. I’m sure you noticed that I didn’t make it.”

Virgil nodded, brows furrowed as he listened.

“I ran into someone -- at least that’s what I thought at first. They said they needed help so who was I to refuse? I followed them, which was stupid in hindsight, but I did it anyway. You know how old town is always dead as soon as the sun sets?” Virgil nodded again. “Well, I figured out too late that the person wasn’t actually a person and I had been tricked into going somewhere isolated. Obviously, I came out victorious,” Roman put a hand on his hip and one on his chest to emphasise how obvious it should be, “but it was… odd.”

“Did it go up in smoke?”

Roman’s eyes scanned Virgil’s face. Virgil didn’t know what he was searching for. “Yes, actually. Did you…?”

Virgil frowned. “Just right now.” He glanced around the area once more. Still gone. “Do you think that’s what happens when, when they --” As silly as it was, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to say it. Technically, Figments weren’t real. But the thought of killing  _ something _ wasn’t pleasant.

“Die?”

“Yeah, that.”

Roman didn’t appear too sure. For once, his I-have-it-all-together attitude didn’t shine through. “Well, there’s always someone we could ask -- two someones even.” Virgil watched as a facade came up. He was pretending to be okay with this. “We just -- hey, your sweater’s ripped.” He pointed at Virgil.

Virgil blinked. He examined his hoodie to see what the fuck Roman was going on about. He almost missed the dangling cloth on his arm. It must have ripped when he pulled himself away from that Figment. “Damn.” It wasn’t a huge hole, and the cloth hadn’t been ripped clean off, but it was still disappointing. “This is my favorite hoodie.”

“Let’s get to Picani’s house.” Roman spoke again after a moment. “I feel like we’d be safer there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the parts that I've had planned since the beginning. I'm so excited!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil eavesdrops and gets a glimpse of what it's like to be Logan and Patton for the night. He decides he doesn't like what he hears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter underwent a lot of revision and yet I still don't like the way it ended. This is actually the shortest one so far. oof

Arriving unannounced at someone’s house at two in the morning wasn’t on Virgil’s must do list. It made him feel bad. Not every person had a jacked up sleep schedule as he did. So he felt pretty guilty (and a little confused) when Thomas opened the door.

Thomas yawned and rubbed his eye. “What the heck?” He wore an oversized shirt with paint stains and sweats that were in a similar condition. So not quite bed ready. “What are you two doing here?”

After a quick explanation, Thomas let them inside. The house, save for a few lights on in the living room, was pitch black. It then occurred to Virgil that they had never been over like this before. The first time they ever came over -- many weeks ago -- the house was awake. It didn’t feel so quiet or heavy from the darkness. They were seeing it in a new light. Or lack thereof.

Regardless, the two sat down at their normal seats. That’s when they noticed why the few lights were on in the first place. Thomas had been painting. The floor was covered to protect it from any stray paint that may have fallen. Bottles of acrylic paint were in various locations on the floor with the black one still being open. A plastic palette sat next to the canvas with a mess of dark colors since the painting, Virgil noticed with a start, wasn’t full of sunshine and happiness. 

It depicted a cloaked figure -- Death, perhaps -- kneeling in an unfinished patch of grass. The grass it kneeled upon was brown rather than green and it had a hand -- a human hand, not a skeletal one -- extended toward… something. That’s where it stopped. Thomas hadn’t finished.

That’s when something else occurred to Virgil. They had never seen any of Thomas’s paintings before. They knew he liked to, but they never saw any work. For this to be the first one was a little surprising, to say the least. Thomas didn’t seem to radiate anything other than happiness. But then again, a person is only so much as they show themselves to be.

“Patton and Logan are sleeping,” Thomas whispered as he cleaned up. He didn’t seem to notice how his visitors were entranced by his work. “I’ll get them in a minute.” He grabbed the canvas off the floor and carried it away.

Virgil and Roman sat in silence as Thomas walked around. After things were somewhat neat, he stepped down the hall toward Picani’s room. It took a moment or two before he came back out, calling behind him, “Don’t forget your glasses, Patton.” Which prompted loud, annoyed groaning.

Thomas plopped himself on the armchair at the same time Patton and Logan shuffled down the hall. They looked annoyed at having to wake up. Plus the bed head made them look downright miserable.

“What’s happening?” Logan asked as he rubbed his face.

So Virgil and Roman explained it. Everything. They tried their best to describe each scenario in detail. Who knew what could be useful information. Figments were a whole new world to them.

“This isn't good,” Logan muttered under his breath. 

“Are you two okay?” Patton appeared much more awake now. “You didn't get hurt did you?”

Virgil rubbed his neck. Other than being choked out, he was fine. No physical damage.

“Actually.” Roman held out his arm. “I got scraped while trying to escape. It's not a big deal, though.”

Perhaps it wasn't a big deal for Roman, but Virgil had alarms going off at the sight of it. It wasn't just some scrape, but a cut along the length of his forearm. Superficial, of course, but deep enough to draw blood. He had no idea how he didn't notice it before.

“Big deal or not, an injury is an injury.” Patton held out his hands. “Let me see.”

Roman hesitated before moving to the edge of the couch and handing over his arm. Patton rolled up the sleeves of his oversized hoodie. He placed his hands over the cut and a soft blue glow came from beneath them. When he removed them, the cut was gone.

Thomas came back in after that. Virgil didn't even notice when he slipped away. “Here.” He handed Virgil a spool of thread and a needle. “For your jacket. We only had white.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Virgil took it with confusion. Thomas didn't need to do this for him. He mentioned once before that his mom tried to teach him how to sew, but he didn't think the kid remembered.

Roman ran a hand over his arm, eyes wide and searching. “How… how did you do that?”

“What was that, kiddo?” Patton sat down with a napkin, wiping the thin line of Roman's blood off his hands.

“How did you fix it?” He moved his eyes up to Patton. “There's nothing there at all.”

Patton smiled. “I'm a healer, remember? You’ve seen me do it before.”

“I mean, yeah, but…” It didn't seem as if he knew how to word it.

“I can only heal what can naturally be healed.” Somehow, Patton seemed to understand. “So I can't cure any terminal illness or anything. In fact, I can only really cure a cold. I fix physical injuries from cuts and bruises to broken bones.” He thought for a moment. “It's more like I speed up the healing process if that makes sense.”

Roman paused. “Can,” Virgil had never seen him so unsure before, “I mean, is it possible to heal, like, a scar?”

“Of course!” His smile slipped for a moment as he glanced at Logan. “Kind of. If it's not caused by magic, at least.”

“Logan?” Thomas interrupted the conversation. “You alright?” After not getting a response he asked again, “Logan?”

Logan snapped out of whatever trance he was in. “What?” He lowered his hands from his mouth. “I'm afraid I wasn't quite paying attention.”

Thomas’s brows pulled together in worry. “You okay?”

“Yes.” His hand moved to where his glasses should have been, but they were not there. Instead, he opted for straightening out his undershirt. “I was simply thinking over our predicament. And I find it quite troubling, to say the least.” His eyes passed over everyone. “I fear we may have made a grave mistake in bringing Virgil and Roman along with us on our rescue mission. Altair has seen both of your faces. He must be strong enough now to detect when someone doesn’t have magic -- and you simply being with us already put you on a kill-on-sight list.”

Virgil didn’t like how that sounded.

“And the Figments know how you act,” Patton said with slow realization. “The ones you saw both catered to how you responded to them in the past. Roman’s tried to trick him to take him by surprise, but Virgil’s immediately tried to attack him.”

“Hey -- yeah.” Thomas sat up in surprise. “They knew Roman would attack the moment he saw what they were, but Virgil hasn’t done anything to prove he would fight first.” He paused, an awareness crossing his face. “You can’t hide.”

Virgil pricked his finger with the needle. Oh boy.

Thomas’s words seemed to click with Logan. “No one saw you come here, did they?”

Virgil and Roman glanced at each other. “No,” Roman answered. “No one else was around.”

A million things could have been passing in his mind at once and no one would have known. He kept a stern, albeit stoic, expression. “It might be best for you two to stay the night here. Altair hasn’t figured out where we are yet so this is the safest place you can be.”

Virgil’s mind couldn’t help but latch onto the “yet” part in Logan’s sentence. Though it made perfect sense. Logan was a realist. It wouldn’t have been very logical to assume their location would never be found -- not with five faces to follow. Still, that corner of Virgil’s mind wouldn’t shut up about it.

“Another sleepover?” Thomas’s eyes brightened.

“No.” Logan quickly shot it down. “I’d like to sleep on a bed tonight, thank you. Roman and Virgil can choose rooms to sleep in as well. We’ll discuss things further at a more reasonable hour.”

By the time four o’clock rolled around, Virgil decided sleep wouldn’t come. He groaned in annoyance and sat up. The room he had chosen stifled him with unfamiliar shadows. He needed to get outside. He sighed and slipped off the bed, grabbing his hoodie on the way out. Even in the dark, the white thread stood out against the black fabric. Mediocre stitch work, but it got the job done.

Virgil peeked his head into the hall to see if someone happened to be there. Empty. He made sure to keep his footsteps light as he traced the wood back toward the living room. The voices in that direction made him halt in his tracks. He listened for a moment and discovered the voices to be Patton and Logan. Their whispering was far too hushed to be deciphered clearly. Then they stopped. A bright light seeped into the hallway.

With curiosity getting the best of him, Virgil peeked his head out enough to see a familiar attempt at fusion. This one, however, lasted a bit longer, although the outcome was the same. The two fell to the floor, sighs of annoyance and frustration accompanying their thump. Virgil didn’t fight back the frown that tugged at his lips. Why were they doing this? From what he knew, they did a few attempts yesterday with all of them ending in failure.

“We need to take a break,” Patton muttered. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“What else are we supposed to do?” Virgil could see Logan throw an arm over his eyes. “We need Picani.”

“We can’t get him -- at least not right now.”

Logan stayed quiet for a moment. “There’s no way we can keep them all safe without Picani’s spells. It isn’t as if we can ask Roman and Virgil to take up fighting. This isn’t their war. They shouldn’t be involved in the first place -- we brought them there.”

“Okay, so we messed up. That’s fine. Just another failure to add to the list.” Virgil found himself flinching at the bitterness in that sentence. “But we are  _ not _ going to have this turn out like everything else, alright? We’re going to find a way.”

“How?”

This time Patton fell silent. “I don’t know.” He sat himself up. “All we have is us. Maybe if we had…  _ them  _ with us then things might be different, but we don’t have that luxury. We’re the only ones left, Logan.” He lowered his head. “We can’t just fail.”

Logan moved his arm to look at Patton. “I never said we would.”

“But you’re right. There’s no way we can protect three people with just two of us.” Patton brought his knees to his chest. He thought for a moment. “One more time.”

The two got to their feet. They took each other's hands and pressed their foreheads together. With a deep breath from both of them, they formed a bright light. Virgil couldn't look directly at it. But what caught his attention this time, when the light went away, was the lack of any noises of disgruntlement. He brought his eyes back up to see Picani.

His eyes were shut tightly and it looked as if he was holding his breath. And he might have. Forming a fusion didn't seem like an easy task. Though after a few seconds, his form began to flicker. Virgil could almost see the two lights struggling to stay together, but it didn't work. Picani switched into a ball of light and the two tumbled out.

They both sighed.

“I wouldn’t call that a complete failure,” Logan said. “That's the closest we've gotten yet. It's still annoying, but at least we know we can do it.”

“Right.” Patton sat up. “We'll keep trying. We might not be able to shield them, but at least we’ll still be able to defend them.”

“Well,  _ you  _ will, at least. I'll just be uselessly standing off to the side since I've lost the one thing that would be of any help.” He threw his arm over his eyes again. “Just like old times.”

“Whoa, hey.” Patton shuffled over to him. “That's just the lack of sleep talking. We've had -- what? -- four hours sleep total these past two nights? If you got some more then I guarantee you'll feel a lot better.”

Logan paused. “I suppose so.”

Virgil withdrew his head from the conversation. He didn't want to intrude on any late night confessions more than he already had. He tiptoed back to bed with new information swirling around. He couldn't believe how hard Patton and Logan had been trying.

When he saw them in the morning yesterday, they were running on less sleep than him. He just assumed sleeping at hours they weren't used to messed them up. Not only that, but they had been trying to form Picani the whole time.

They needed a break.

They were too focused on trying to help everyone else. Virgil would be willing to do most things if it meant Logan and Patton slowed down for a second. He might have to talk it over with Roman. Maybe Thomas as well. All he knew is that something had to be done before Logan and Patton overworked themselves. Sure he wasn’t the best at that himself, but he’d be damned if someone else was going to do it.

He checked back in two hours later and found them fast asleep on the floor.

**~~~**

Once a more reasonable hour came about, Virgil gathered Roman and Thomas into his room to discuss what he had witnessed -- well, as much as they needed to know, anyway. Patton and Logan were still sleeping.

“I didn’t even think about it,” Thomas placed a finger to his lips, something reminiscent of Logan, “Picani is capable of creating protection wards. It’s long and strenuous and, honestly, a lot harder than it should be -- but he’s still able to do it.” He ran his hands through his hair. “It’s why they’d try so hard. The easiest way out of this is through Picani.”

Roman crossed his legs. “So why can’t Logan or Patton just do it?”

An expression flickered across Thomas’s face for a second. Something Virgil caught on as seeing a reflection in the mirror. It disappeared with a smile. “It’s not their type of magic.” He got his hands ready for a demonstration. “Logan is the fighter and he has magic that represents that. Patton is a defender and you’ve seen what he can do already. Together, as Picani, they become a protector. He still has elements of both their magic types, but his main magic becomes something else. He can do things that Patton and Logan can’t do on their own.”

“Like how Pearl and Amethyst can’t summon Opal’s weapon alone?”

“Yeah, that works.” Thomas grinned at him.

Virgil crossed his arms. “Even if they could form Picani, would he even be able to do the magic he’d need to? Logan got his mojo jacked, remember?”

Thomas thought for a moment. “I don’t know, actually.” He looked at Virgil with uncertainty. “Something like this has never happened before. It’s kind of not supposed to happen. Ever. Taking away magic is like pulling out your lungs and asking you to breathe.”

_ So then how can Logan still breathe? _

Virgil decided to hold his tongue on that. He didn’t need any kids crying to start off his day. “So then what can we do?” Best to move on to the important subject. “It’s obvious that they can’t do this by themselves even if they want to. They’re going to need help.”

Thomas’s eyes flicked from the chair Roman sat on to the wall Virgil leaned against. There was a subtle switch -- so subtle that Virgil almost missed it. He became older, somehow. As if he had lived several lifetimes and this scenario had come up in each one. It was a recognition one would get after seeing a familiar face for the first time in years. “That’s what we’re going to give them.”

“Uh, how, exactly?” Roman asked.

“We prove it to them.” Thomas stood up from the bed. “Explain how and why they can’t do this alone and then say we’re here to help.” He started walking toward the door.

“What makes you so sure that’ll work?” Virgil challenged.

Thomas stopped. He turned to give him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Because they’ll see the same thing I did.” Then he left without another word.

Virgil and Roman shared a glance before following suit.

When they walked into the living room Thomas was already leaning over the armchair to talk to Logan and Patton. It looked like he had just woken them up. He glanced over his shoulder then ducked his head to whisper something to them.

Patton placed a hand over his eyes while the other searched the ground. “Give me a few seconds.” Virgil wasn’t sure who that was meant for.

Logan used the back of the sofa to help himself up. He looked a bit frazzled. “Uh, good morning.” He brushed his bangs out of his face. “We were told you had something to discuss with us.”

They all took their seats and Thomas began the discussion. Well, technically, a discussion would mean that both parties get a say on a topic, which wasn’t going to happen. It was more of an intervention. A callout, even. Thomas laid down all the points and spoke as if he knew  _ exactly _ what interjections Patton or Logan would make.

Even though he had some solid reasoning, the two still seemed uncertain. They didn’t want to get anyone involved if they didn’t have to.

“Listen,” Virgil interjected. “Whether or not you like it, you’re going to need us. There’s no possible way you can keep your eyes on all of us at all times. Let us make it easier and help you -- we’re the ones offering.”

Logan and Patton stared at him in response. They had a similar expression as Thomas did earlier -- seeing someone for the first time in years. Someone they never expected to see, it felt like. Logan’s eyes scanned every inch of Virgil’s face as if to search for something he had forgotten. Virgil could almost see the thoughts racing in his head. Patton, on the other hand, became oddly stoic. For the first time since his appearance, he grew hard to read. Whoever they saw, they must have been important.

Then Patton laughed.

He covered his mouth and let out a giggle. “I guess history repeats itself, after all.”

Virgil blinked. That wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Those that don’t learn from it are doomed to repeat it,” Logan added, somewhat lost in thought. “I suppose that means we only have one option.”

“Learn from our mistakes?” Patton gave him a sly smile.

A tiny grin cracked through Logan’s features. “Learn from our mistakes.”

What those mistakes were, they wouldn’t know for sure. But they accomplished what they set out to do and that was a victory in Virgil’s book. Hopefully, more victories were in store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Thomas was actually supposed to mention his parents for the first time in this chapter, but I had to scrap it since it didn't fit in right. Well anyway, I hope you enjoyed this!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training, training, and montages. Sprinkle in some sexual tension, innuendos, and a jealous Patton, and then you'll get a slice of Virgil's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention it last chapter, but shoutout to @thelowlysatsuma on Tumblr for /coining/ the name of this AU! She gave out wonderful suggestions and I ended up sticking with Two Sides of the Same Coin (Coinverse for simplicity's sake)
> 
> So welcome to the coinverse everybody!

It might have been a slight mistake to get so involved in this weird story. That’s what it felt like, at least. A story. A story of a young boy living with his magical guardian who happens to be two people put together. Wording it that way makes this whole thing seem so ridiculous -- so fake. It was just a story for entertainment.

Virgil wished it was, at least.

If the story had been left at that, then things would be better. Thomas would be safe with Picani without the threat of Altair finding them. Roman and Virgil wouldn’t have known them. They wouldn’t have messed things up by getting involved. They wouldn’t have caused Picani to split and they wouldn’t have alerted Altair to their existence. And -- most importantly -- Virgil wouldn’t be forced to do _exercise._

Yes, he said he’d do almost anything to help out Patton and Logan, but he hadn’t done any major movements since gym class in high school. He wasn’t in the best shape physically. Or even mentally. Or at all, really. He was kind of a mess.

And one thing this mess didn’t need was a sore body from self-defense training. Not to mention work on top of it. He always got at least one day off a week, but now it seemed like he deserved a little more.

To add onto the craziness that was now Virgil's life, Patton and Logan decided it would be best if no one left the house alone. And under no circumstances should they be alone for extended periods of time. For Virgil that was easy. For Roman, it was a little more difficult.

He wasn’t used to being accompanied while he did his job. So having Virgil (or one of the others, depending on the time) with him was a bit awkward at first. They just kind of watched him, somewhat interested but not wanting to get in the way. Being a freelance photographer indicated that he didn’t have a consistent schedule and that was fine with him. It meant he didn’t have to bother anyone every day when he needed to leave for a shoot.

It also meant he stayed behind in the house the most.

And, yes, it became “the house”. Not Picani’s house or Thomas’s house -- just “the house”. A temporary living arrangement. Logan emphasized that it was for safety; Roman and Virgil had a higher chance of being found out if they continued to stay within their own apartments. The Figments had already figured out where Roman lived, after all. So the two moved in. Packed up as if to leave on a vacation. If vacations happen to consist of mini witness protection, that is.

The first few days were a bit awkward with everyone unused to dealing with such drastic morning schedules. Patton and Logan always woke up first without exception (minus the first day when they actually got themselves a decent night’s sleep). Then Roman. Then Thomas. And sometimes Virgil didn’t get up until one.

Which is why it didn’t occur to them the one weird thing until after the awkwardness had passed. Thomas never left in the mornings. He never hurried out the door or rushed around to get ready. It seemed so obvious in hindsight. Thomas never left for school.

“Oh! Uh,” Thomas’s eyes flicked between Roman and Virgil, “I’m homeschooled?” Not even _he_ looked convinced by that. “Hey, there’s Patton! Go ask him.” Then he slipped out the front door.

They didn’t, though.

Regardless of that, things started to go by smoothly. It almost felt like living with a family. Almost, but not quite. They weren’t at that level yet. Virgil had gotten used to Patton and Logan being around, at least. He enjoyed the back-and-forth prattle that Roman and Logan got into -- especially if it ended with Logan roasting the crap out of Roman (which it often did). And he liked watching Patton teach Thomas how to cook.

Between all the fun and work there was, of course, the training. It wasn’t anything advanced at first, just basic self-defense. Thomas didn’t participate, but he was always there for moral support. Their “training grounds” was outside passed the backyard of the house. It felt like uncharted territory, though technically, it was still Picani’s property. It was an overgrown patch of land with enough brush and trees to hide what they were doing from wandering eyes.

“Alright.”

They had been doing this for a little over a week by this time. Thomas sat between Virgil and Patton on a fallen log while Roman and Logan stood across from each other.

“Come at me.” Logan stood wide open for an attack.

Roman blinked in surprise. “Uh -- what?” He glanced at the log. Virgil shrugged without much care. Patton and Thomas encouraged him. “Are you sure about this?”

Neither Roman nor Virgil had ever been instructed to do this before. They hadn’t even sparred against Logan or Patton. They were always paired with each other.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Logan put a hand on his hip. “There’s a chance you’ll start a fight, isn’t there?”

Roman still hesitated. “I just wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

Logan raised a brow. “Hurt me?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to break any of your brittle old man bones.”

Patton snorted and covered his mouth with both hands to stop any giggles from escaping. Thomas didn’t hide his amusement at all and even Virgil had a little smirk.

Logan dropped his hand, looking more annoyed by the second. “Thanks for your concern, Roman, but it is unneeded.”

Roman shrugged. Virgil could tell by his smirk that he was satisfied. But that attitude didn’t last very long. As soon as Roman tried to make a move, Logan grabbed him by the arm and pulled, using his momentum against him. Logan then kicked up Roman’s leg to send him to the ground.

“And that’s how you take down someone.” Logan sneered down at Roman.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Thomas asked, excitement making him bounce.

“Can you do that again?” Virgil quipped in as straight a face he could manage.

Roman picked himself off the ground. “Alright, I get it, don’t make fun of you when you’re ready to kick my ass.” He dusted himself off. “Just use someone else next time.”

“What? C’mon Roman,” Virgil teased. He swirled around the water in his water bottle. “We’re not even finished with today’s lesson.”

Roman glared at him.

“He’s right, you know.” Logan crossed his arms and matched Virgil’s amused face.

Before Roman could yell at them, Patton raised his hand a bit and stood up from the log. “Mind if I step in, then?”

Everyone stared at him in shock. Patton didn’t like to fight -- pretend or not -- unless it was necessary. He made that point very clear when they first started out.

“Uh, sure,” Roman answered after a moment. "Go for it." He replaced Patton on the log.

“You’re not going to go easy on me, are you?” Logan asked with a slight smirk.

Patton returned it with an innocent smile. “As long as _you_ don’t.”

Then that was that. They started without another word between them. No one had seen them fight before (outside of demonstrations) and it was a whole different world. It became clear that they both knew what they were doing and had done it for a long time. All their moves were concise and purposeful. They didn’t hesitate as Virgil might have, but they weren’t as brash as Roman. They knew what they had to do and when they had to do it.

An even match with Patton mostly on the defensive. Neither had the opportunity at getting ahead. Until Logan stumbled. His foot got caught on a root of some plant. He frowned down at it, then up at Patton.

“Magic, really?” He tried to wiggle his foot out but it wouldn’t budge.

Patton held his hands up as if to identify them as clean. “I never heard anything against it.” His grin was a mixture of mischievous and innocent.

Logan gave him an unamused stare. “Fine.” He kicked his leg up, breaking the root from the ground. He took it within his hand and broke off any unnecessary bits. “If we’re going all out --” He swung the root at Patton who had just enough time to duck. “-- might as well make it even.”

“Even?” Patton jumped out of the way. He pouted. “You’re the only sword expert here.”

Logan examined the root. “And you’re the only one with magic.” He glanced up to smirk at Patton. “So here we are.”

Patton slumped his shoulders. “I hate it when you use logic against me.” He squeaked and dove out of the way. “Ow! Hey, that wasn’t nice.” He shook out his hand that the end of the root managed to hit.

Logan stuck his tongue out.

Patton pouted again. He held out his hand, palm down toward the ground. Vines began to rise from the dirt, weaving into themselves to form a twisted yet braided staff. Patton pulled it from the dirt and used it to block Logan’s swing.

It became clear right away that they were not equals in this regard. Logan had the upper hand. Patton didn’t have many openings to strike. He became strictly defensive with often just barely being able to block Logan. Yet where Logan had skill, Patton had dexterity.

He managed to duck under Logan’s arm to get behind him. He hit Logan’s hand with the staff and knocked the root out of his hand. He then swept it behind Logan’s legs, causing him to fall. Patton placed the staff on his chest then put his legs on either side of him and sat down.

“I think I win.” He stuck his tongue out.

Roman put his hand over Thomas’s eyes.

“Wha -- Roman!” Thomas tried to pry his hand off.

Logan stared up at him. “Oh really?” In what looked like one swift movement to the bystanders, Logan had switched their positions. He pinned down Patton’s arms to render the staff useless. “Seems you still underestimate me. What happened to learning from the past?”

“Sorry, I just thought you liked when I was on top.”

Virgil spat out his water so he didn’t end up choking on it.

Not every training session ended up like that, but there were many shenanigans regardless of who did what. As things got more intense, Patton sat out more and more. He sat on the sidelines with Thomas instead of instructing with Logan. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Patton was -- in gamer’s terms -- a support main. He didn’t go on the offensive. So as the training trickled less into defense and more what to do in a life or death situation, Logan took over. Patton jumped in every once in a while, but other than that he didn’t do much.

Virgil could understand why. Fighting wasn’t much of his thing, either. But he didn’t have a choice. It was either learn how to fight or get ripped to shreds by imaginary ghost people. He decided which one he preferred already.

It couldn’t have been a little over a month when it happened. No Figments had appeared, thank whoever for that, but things got a little demanding. Roman and Virgil were well on their way to becoming more coordinated. It took a lot of effort -- far more than they’d care to admit -- yet they were getting there. So the problem didn’t lie so much with them as it did the time that they had.

Roman, Virgil, and Thomas were in the living room trying to find something on Netflix. Logan and Patton were cleaning up in the kitchen. It was normal. Everything should have been fine -- and it was.

Up until the point something shattered.

The three in the living room jumped and turned their heads toward the kitchen. Patton, who had been on the other side wiping down the breakfast bar, put a hand to his chest in fright. They all stared right at Logan.

“Logan?” Patton called tentatively. He set down the washcloth. “You okay?”

Logan didn’t answer right away, but it became clear from the look on Patton’s face that things were not good. He hurried around the bar and turned Logan around to face him. This allowed the three in the living room to see what was going on. Logan held his left wrist tightly, his face twisted into a grimace. Patton took his wrist in his hands, muttering anxious words that couldn’t be deciphered clearly.

The two had a hushed conversation turned worried argument. Virgil noted that the more frantic Patton’s voice got, the less English that came out. One phrase that stood out in particular (other than the fact that it was one of the few phrases in English) was “need magic”.

Thomas looked uneasy all of a sudden.

Patton pushed Logan out of the kitchen, loudly chastising him for something in the unknown language. To Virgil’s surprise, Logan responded in the same language. Patton didn’t seem to like it. He frowned and continued to shoo Logan out, who rolled his eyes but complied anyway, walking down the hall to their bedroom.

Patton sighed, staring at the hall in worry. His eyes widened and he let out a gentle gasp. He turned toward the living room. Three pairs of eyes stared back at him. _“Ay, shrálinie.”_ He tried to cover up his worry with a smile. “What are you all staring at me for? Weren’t you going to watch a movie or something?”

“That doesn’t seem quite appropriate now,” Roman muttered.

“Is Logan okay?” Thomas asked.

Patton’s facade cracked. “He’s, uh,” he looked at each of them, “he’s fine.” He tried to bring his smile back up. It looked a lot more forced now. “There’s nothing to worry about. Now, why don’t you three find something to watch while I clean up the mess in here?”

They could tell it was a lie.

The worry they felt was not their own.

Despite that, it was never brought up again. It remained in the back of their minds, a silent pin sticking it in place, but no one acted like it ever happened. Whether out of nervousness or denial, that couldn’t be determined. It didn’t happen again, though.

Logan appeared fine. He didn’t fall over dead or anything so that was a plus. And he continued to do his normal routine without issue. It was almost like it never happened at all. If it was that simple then Virgil and Roman probably wouldn’t have come home several times after work to see Thomas still awake, pretending to be doing something so it wouldn’t seem like he couldn’t sleep.

Fast forward several more days to the present time and all five of them are on the training grounds. Thomas sat on his usual log to observe the scene. Things were getting a bit more advanced, which meant that Roman and Virgil had to do a lot more strenuous things. For two people who never did any exercise unless absolutely necessary, it got a little too intense.

Roman, being the scheming mastermind that he is, tried to catch a conversation with Logan to see if he could be distracted. Virgil may have helped out a bit, too. Because if there’s anything they learned, it’s that Logan could be distracted with an interesting enough topic.

Funnily enough, the topic didn’t come from either of them, but from Thomas. He asked a magic-related question which sparked a miniature lesson.

Different magic types often came with different side-effects. Patton, for example, was an expert in healing magic -- born with it, in fact. One side-effect included his body being able to heal faster than a normal living organism. Not a bad side-effect, but still a byproduct of his magic type. It often meant that his pain didn’t last as long as someone else’s; his injury would heal before any lasting pain set in.

“Can we get a little demonstration?” Roman asked with a wide smile. Both Virgil and Thomas joined in.

Logan turned to Patton. “What do you think?”

“Oh, I can’t really say no to those faces,” Patton responded.

Under normal circumstances, Virgil would be against anyone hurting themselves for no real purpose, but this was different for two reasons. One; magic. Two; he wanted to stop moving his body.

Rather than having someone try to harm Patton, he decided to do it himself. By punching the old door that someone had left there. Who knew where it came from, but now it would at least serve a purpose. Patton took it and stood it in the middle of the small clearing (with vines securing it in place). Then he just kind of stared at it.

“Patton?” Logan raised a brow.

“I know,” Patton groaned. “I just gotta… work myself up.” He shook out his hands. But he still didn’t move. Several more seconds passed.

Logan sighed. “Patton, if you don’t do it, I’m going to have to make you angry.” He crossed his arms. “And I really don’t want to do that.”

Patton giggled. “Oh, Logan, I could never get angry at you.” He grinned at him.

Logan didn’t smile back. In fact, he did quite the opposite. “Arlene Waters.”

Patton’s smile dropped. His eyes sparked with a menacing fire. Without saying a word, he stepped up to the old door and punched a hole straight through it. There was no warning or build up. He just punched a hole through solid wood like it was nothing. A huge chunk where his fist made contact flew well away from the initial impact zone. The wood around it cracked and splintered.

“Holy shit,” Virgil uttered.

Roman stood there with his mouth agape.

“I had no idea he could do that,” Thomas whispered, a bit of fear leaked into his voice.

Patton wiped the dark look off his face. “Oops.” He retracted his hand and shook it clean of debris. “Didn’t mean to freak you boys out.” He gave them a shy smile.

“Who the hell has you so pissed off?” Roman blurted out.

“Oh, it’s in the past.” He waved his hand to dismiss it. “Sometimes it should just stay dead.”

The three didn’t know what was scarier; the sweet smile Patton had while he said that, or the fact that he could tear them apart if they asked about it further.

“But hey -- look at this.” Patton held out his hand for them to see.

The broken skin along his knuckles began to close up. In a matter of seconds, the abrasions were gone with no indication that they had been there in the first place. No blood or swelling or bruising.

“Pretty cool, right?” He grinned at them. “Don’t you agree, Logan? Uh, Logan?”

Logan lifted his eyes from the patch of grass that had all his attention. “Uh, yes. Cool. Very cool, Patton.” He gave a weak smile.

A frown flicked on Patton’s face for a brief second. “Okay!” He clapped his hands together. “Time for lunch.”

They decided to go out for something. Except they couldn’t decide on eating in a restaurant or getting fast food. Patton could only eat certain things and Logan didn’t care, so it was really down to the three people that argued the most. Like most of their arguments, however, Thomas won. They ended up going to one of the few places with vegetarian options for Patton.

After ordering, they sat down. It took Thomas two seconds to spot the arcade machines on the other side of the room.

He gasped. “Pac-Man! Logan, c’mon.” He got up and tugged Logan with him.

“What? Why me?” Logan had enough time to set down his drink before getting dragged along.

Patton chuckled, watching them go with a fond smile.

Virgil glanced over his shoulder to see them at the change machine with Thomas bouncing in excitement. That kid had far too much energy. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the table.

“So how long have you two been together?” Roman asked as he swirled around his straw.

“Hm? Oh,” Patton laughed a bit. “Much longer than you two have been around for.”

“Can we get, like, an approximation?” Roman smiled at him. Virgil knew what he was doing. Patton and Logan had been around for almost two months, yet they still didn’t know how old they were. The farthest back they ever mentioned was the 1800s.

Patton smiled straight back as if he could see right through him. “At least a hundred.”

That wasn’t much to go off of. They were, at the very least, two hundred years old. It didn’t seem to be accurate enough for them to be together for half of their lives. Well maybe it could have been, but weird magic ages were a whole new thing.

Roman pouted.

“Hey, that’s the farthest we’ve gotten out of them yet,” Virgil mentioned. He leaned to rest his back against the chair.

“That’s the spirit.” Patton winked at him.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just tell us.” Roman put his head on the table. “What’s so secret about your ages?”

Patton shrugged. “We’re just a lot older than anything you know. And, honestly, I think it’s because Logan doesn’t want to hear any more old man jokes.”

Virgil snorted. “We do say a lot of those already.”

“If I promise not to make any more jokes will you be able to tell us?” Roman lifted up his head.

“You’re the one who makes them the most.”

Roman crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, the last time I said one I got slammed into the ground so I think I’m good for now.”

“That decision is up to Logan,” Patton said. “But I will admit that I’m a little apprehensive about you guys knowing, too.”

“What?” Roman cried in outrage.

Virgil pushed his face to the side so his loud voice wouldn’t be so close. “Is there a reason for that?”

Patton hesitated for a moment. “Well, just, if you knew how old we were -- the things we’ve seen -- you might look at us a little differently.” He stared down into his drink. “We’ve been around for so many people’s lifetimes.”

The table fell silent. Virgil never really thought of it that way, but it would make sense. If you witnessed so many people live and die around you, why would you want anyone else to know? Even living up to a hundred could leave you a lonely person. That’s not even mentioning all the war and chaos you would have lived through.

“But enough about that.” Patton looked up with a smile. “Why don’t we change the topic to something I can actually talk about? Like --” His smile fell. “Who is _that?”_ He stared straight ahead.

Roman and Virgil turned over their shoulders. Over at the arcade wall, where Thomas and Logan were at the Pac-Man machine, stood a woman. She leaned against the next machine over with a large smile showing off perfect white teeth. Directed at Logan. She couldn’t have been any older than Roman and Virgil’s age. And if they all weren’t so gay they might have called her attractive. With long black hair, porcelain skin, and a curvy figure, anyone with their eyes set on a woman would have tried to win her over.

She didn’t seem aware of the three men observing her and instead focused all her attention on Logan. Her words couldn’t be heard from their location, but her body language said everything they needed to know.

“Is she trying to hit on him?” Roman asked in disbelief.

“I’d say so,” Patton grumbled.

Virgil frowned. Thomas had his eyes glued to the screen, ignoring the world around him.

“Does Logan know?” Roman scrunched his nose when the woman put a hand on his arm.

“Are you kidding me?” Patton slammed his fist on the table, making the other two jump and look toward him. “It took him fifty years to realize I was flirting with him. That stuff goes way over his head.” He crossed his arms. “He can be so dense sometimes.”

Virgil noted the slight dent in the table and the way his heart-rate began to quicken. Patton needed to calm down.

“Do you not trust him or something?” Roman’s tone and flushed face indicated he also felt it.

“It’s not _him_ I don’t trust.” Patton glared across the way. He stood up with the full intention to march over there.

A worker called out an order number. Theirs. Perfect timing.

Virgil pushed Roman out of his seat to stop the situation.

“Woah, hey, Patton.” Roman hooked an arm around Patton’s and steered him away from the wall. “You should come help me with the food.”

That worked for a few short moments. It became an issue again after they realized someone needed to get Logan and Thomas. Patton took it upon himself to do so. Roman and Virgil floundered for a few seconds. They didn’t want Patton to destroy anything, so Roman returned the favor by pushing Virgil off his seat and urging him to follow Patton.

Virgil tried to catch up without making a scene. “Oh, crap.” Patton got there before he could stop him. Well, he’d step in if he needed to.

Patton draped an arm over Logan’s shoulders. “Food’s ready, babe.”

Thomas ran into a ghost. “‘Babe’?” He pried his eyes away from the game to see what was going on. “Since when do you -- oh.” He must have seen the woman. A frown flicked on his face before it turned into a mischievous smile. He squeezed himself between Logan and Patton. Somehow, he managed to make himself appear five years younger. “Hi! My name’s Thomas, I’m their son.”

Virgil snorted at the woman’s expression. He had to walk away before he burst into laughter. They had it under control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite a fan of jealous yet protective Patton, so be prepared to see more of him in the future. Let me know if you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't always easy, but at least there's music to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kinda got excited about this chapter and wrote it all in a day...
> 
> (PS. If you want some emersion then you'll need this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kO5Qp8OTCkg You'll know when you need it)

Patton and Logan hadn’t been able to form Picani at all. Not since Virgil found them the first time. They kept trying, but never got anywhere close. No one ever said anything about it yet somehow they all knew it frustrated them.

Thomas told Roman and Virgil once that Picani was actually quite difficult to split up. Sometimes he talked to himself if Logan or Patton couldn’t agree, but it often didn’t lead to them unfusing. In fact, since Roman and Virgil showed up into their lives, Logan and Patton argued a lot more than they did before. That didn’t make them feel bad or anything. Nope. Not at all.

Still, no one expected them to be unfused for so long. It didn’t matter what they did, they couldn’t do it.

When Roman and Virgil got home from a photo shoot, it was about lunchtime. Thomas sat in the living room rewatching _The Office_ on Netflix again. Roman decided to join him, but Virgil asked if they were going to do something for lunch today.

Thomas made an “I dunno” sound. “Ask Patton and Logan. They’re in their room, I think.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. That kid needed new shows to watch.

Sighing, Virgil made his way down the hall to Patton and Logan’s room. When it became “Patton and Logan’s room” and not “Picani’s room”, Virgil didn’t know. But as long as Picani wasn’t around then anything that was his became Logan and Patton’s. A subtle change, but further proof that he had been gone for too long.

Virgil stopped in front of the door. His hand raised to knock on it, but it was open enough to where he could see inside.

Picani sat there with his eyes shut and his hands placed over his stomach. “We can do this,” he whispered. “It doesn’t feel the same. I know, but we can do this. I can’t.” His face fell out of tranquility. “It’s not right.” His hands gripped at his hoodie. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just breathe. We can do this. Breathe.” He began hyperventilating. “Breathe. Focus. Focus. This doesn’t feel right. Something’s missing. There’s something missing.” The second his eyes shot open he was enveloped in light.

Patton and Logan fell with their backs to the floor.

Logan hit the ground with his fist. “Ugh! I can’t do this.” He got to his feet. “I’m useless without my magic.” He left out the side door.

“Logan --” Patton cut himself off when the door slammed. He sat there with furrowed brows and a deep frown.

Virgil pushed the door open more. “Bad day?”

Patton jumped and turned to look at him. “Virgil.” He didn’t even bother to fake a smile. “It’s, uh, I guess you can say that.” He looked back toward the door where Logan could be seen pacing on the balcony through the glass.

“Do you wanna talk about it or something?” Virgil sat down in front of him. He didn’t know what he could do, but he could try at least.

“I wouldn’t even know what to say.” Patton laughed. A rather sad sound compared to his usual joy-filled one.

“Just say what’s on your mind.”

He studied Virgil for a few silent seconds. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “We ran into a Figment while we were out.”

Virgil raised a brow. “Just one?”

“We only ever see one at a time.” Patton shrugged. “Guess it takes a lot of magic to keep one going. Well, anyway, we took care of it. But it kind of… said something.”

“Does that mean you made it say something or it actually spoke to you?”

The corner of Patton’s mouth turned up slightly. “A little bit of both.” He paused to play with a loose thread in the carpet. “Altair is after us like we thought. He wants to get rid of ‘the two Magus disgraces’ and ‘the humans who have seen our world’.” The thread got pulled out. “I think purity means a little too much to him.”

Virgil heard something that hadn’t been mentioned before. “Magus?” The word felt foreign on his tongue. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a general term for magic users.” Patton gave him a temporary smile. “It loosely translates to magician.”

Of course, it did. That seemed obvious in hindsight. “Right. Uh, do you wanna continue?”

Patton twirled the thread around his finger. “He isn’t gonna stop until we’re all gone. We still have some time, at least, but if he finds us then there won’t be much time to run. And I don’t think Logan and I will be the ones running this time.” The last sentence came out so silent that Virgil almost didn’t catch it. Perhaps he wasn’t meant to hear it -- an afterthought from a previous memory.

Virgil decided to ignore it for now. He could worry about it later. “Do you have any idea how much time we might have?”

“It’s kind of hard to say. We haven’t been found yet, so that still gives us an advantage,” he paused. “And Altair needs to get Logan first.”

Virgil didn’t know what to make of that. “What d’you mean?” That sounded all kinds of bad. They all needed Logan in some way or another. Patton and Logan did everything together. Roman and Virgil relied on his guidance. Thomas saw him as a parental figure. They couldn’t do anything if he was gone.

“Magic and souls are connected, as you know. A Magus has magic flowing within them at all times. And it stems from the soul.” Patton put a hand underneath his ribs. “Kind of similar to how the heart pumps blood through the body; both have to work together in order for everything to function properly.”

Virgil didn’t like how much of his suspicions of Logan dying were coming true. First Thomas with the needing lungs to breathe bit and now Patton comparing it to the heart. God, it was like the two were purposefully trying to get him to say it out loud.

“In order for Altair to do the things that he does, he needs both soul and magic. But that night he only got one of those things from Logan.” He went back to messing with the thread. “Logan’s magic isn’t responding to Altair at all -- which is good for us. It kind of has a mind of its own, though, and that means Logan’s soul is needed to control it.”

Well, that was a lot of information to take in. Virgil tried his best to not feel so overwhelmed. “Okay, so, let’s just not have him find Logan.” Poetic.

Patton smiled. Sad but genuine. “It isn’t that simple.” He glanced out the glass doors. Logan stood with his back facing them, leaning against the wooden railing. “There’s no possible way Logan can keep going without his magic. For a short while, maybe, but not forever.” He dropped the thread. “We need to find Altair just as much as he thinks he needs to find us.”

Virgil stared at the thread. It stood out where it once fit in so perfectly. He brought his eyes to meet Patton’s. “Do you have a plan for that? Is it possible to even get his magic back to him?”

“It is, but it won’t be easy.” Patton grimaced. “As for the plan, we have no idea. There isn’t a way for just the two of us to take down Altair by ourselves. We’re going to need help that we don’t have.”

“You have us.” Idiot. Goddamn fool. He spoke without thinking. Shit.

Patton blinked, clearly shocked. He erased it with a tiny grin. “I don’t think that’s something we should force upon you, but it was nice to offer.” The grin slipped off his face as he glanced outside again.

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” Virgil was glad to change the subject.

Patton hummed. “He still needs a few minutes to cool down. And for once I don’t mean that literally.”

Virgil furrowed his brows. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” Patton waved his hand to dismiss it. “Why don’t you go hang out with the other boys? It’s about time I made lunch, anyway.” He stood up and helped Virgil to his feet. At full height, Patton was a head shorter. A reversal to Picani’s and Virgil’s height difference.

Before Virgil could walk out the door, Patton’s voice stopped him.

“Thank you, by the way, Virgil. For talking about this with me. I really appreciate it.” He gave a full smile this time.

Virgil would rather die before admitting to getting a fuzzy feeling in his chest. Instead of responding with words, he gave a two-fingered salute and stepped out into the hall. He marched straight into the living room. Thomas and Roman were still watching _The Office._

“Roman, can I talk to you for a second?” Virgil didn’t wait for a response. He tugged on Roman’s arm, dragging him toward the front door so they could talk outside in private. It didn’t close all the way.

“Um, what’s going on?” Roman looked at him curiously.

Virgil took a deep breath. This would be one heck of a story to relay.

He did as best as he could, explaining things that Patton had said just moments before. Roman listened to every word and held any commentary he might have had. It must not have been easy considering he never seemed to shut up sometimes. Regardless, the story got through. And that’s all that mattered.

“We have to help them,” Roman responded.

“How?” Virgil shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. “There isn’t anything we can do -- we’re just humans. We don’t have magic or anything that would be useful.”

“Well, we can’t just stand around and do nothing.” Roman crossed his arms. “We’re on a time constraint here and all of us are in danger. Plus, Logan’s slowly dying. How long do you think he’ll be able to last if we just left it to the two of them? How long do you think either of them would last if they took on Altair themselves?”

“Look, I get it, but what are we supposed to do? We’re not fighters, Roman. We don’t even know what we’re getting into.”

“So your suggestion is to just sit out and wait for all the bad things to happen?”

The door creaked.

Roman and Virgil turned to it and saw something move on the other side. They shared a glance. There could have only been one person trying to listen in. They reentered the house and saw Thomas leaning against the wall attempting to look inconspicuous.

“What are you up to, kid?” Virgil raised a brow and put a hand on his hip.

Thomas shrugged.

“How much did you hear?” Roman asked.

“Enough.” He looked up, eyes glossy with tears. “You’re not really going to stand by and watch, are you?”

Oh crap. Not the puppy eyes. Anything but those. Virgil couldn’t ever bring himself to go against anything whenever Thomas did those. Fuck, and it really looked like he might cry. Oh, God. He felt himself getting pulled in two different directions.

“Of course not,” Roman answered, somewhat frantic. “We’re going to do everything we can.”

Thomas perked up a bit. “Really?”

“Yeah.” The word tumbled out before Virgil could stop it.

Thomas sighed in relief. “Oh good.” He put a hand on his chest. “I was afraid I made the same mistake again.”

Virgil and Roman stared at him. “Wait, what?”

“Lunchtime, kiddos!”

The three of them ate while Patton left to check on Logan. All throughout it, Virgil couldn’t help but notice how off Thomas seemed. He didn’t speak as much and even topics he enjoyed didn’t get him to open up. Maybe what he heard took a toll on him. Virgil didn’t want to admit it, but he much preferred Thomas bouncing off the walls than whatever was going on with him right now.

So after they were done, Virgil came to the conclusion that he needed to do something. “Hey, Roman, I need to get something from my apartment. Can you take me?”

“You’re just asking as a pleasantry, right? I don’t actually have a choice?” Roman turned to him after putting his plate in the sink.

Virgil put his hands over his heart to mock being moved. “You know me so well.”

Roman glared at him. “Yeah, whatever, just let me grab my keys.”

The two set out after a brief farewell to Thomas. It had been a rather long time since either Roman or Virgil set foot in their own apartments. The whole Figment thing kind of deterred them from going back for anything they left. On the bright side, they didn’t know where Virgil’s apartment was which made it somewhat safe.

After arriving, Virgil led them up to the second floor. As soon as he entered those doors, he fell back into a past routine; muscle memory so ingrained into his body that he almost forgot Roman came with him. He fished out his key from his pocket and shoved it into the lock. Out of pure habit, he kicked the door open.

“Welcome to the depression den.” Virgil stood to the side for Roman to step in.

Roman scoffed but got in without a word.

Virgil’s apartment looked like it hadn’t been touched in days. Which was accurate. Everything in it looked more like a picture than a real-life experience. Things were still left out from the last time Virgil used them; clean cups sat on the counter where they had been left to try, a laundry basket full of towels remained in the living room. A past frozen for them to see.

Virgil ignored it all and walked down the hall to his room. He stopped and turned over his shoulder. Roman still stood in the living room, his whole person seeming to suck out any color in the dull room. “Are you coming or what?”

“Oh, uh,” Roman shifted his footing, “y-you want me to follow you?”

Virgil raised a brow. What’s got him so nervous all of a sudden? “Um, yeah? Why not? You just wanna stare at a wall the whole time?”

“Well I wasn’t going to go into your room without an invitation,” he huffed and crossed his arms. Ah, there he is.

“What a gentleman.” Virgil rolled his eyes at him before continuing down the hall.

Inside Virgil’s room was a mess. Clothes scattered along the floor, random papers and notebooks in places they shouldn’t be, and overall a bunch of objects that weren’t put away. The posters and a picture frame or two on the walls were the only neat things about it.

Virgil left Roman to gaze around while he went to the closet. He slid the door open and frowned at it. This was a lot messier than he remembered. He rooted around inside until he found what he was looking for.

“Hey, we should take these with us.” Roman pointed at _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ posters. He turned to give Virgil a lopsided smile but it turned into wide eyes and a dropped jaw. “You had that just shoved into your closet like a heathen?”

Virgil glanced down at the keyboard in his hands and shrugged. “Where else was I supposed to keep it?” He closed the closet door. “There’s also a guitar in there.”

Roman gasped. “You can play guitar too?!” He put his hands on the sides of his head. “Why don’t you tell me you can do these things you do?”

Virgil scoffed at the reference. What a nerd. “It’s not like it’s ever come up in conversation before. Besides, why would you care if I can play anything?” He set the keyboard against the wall for the time being.

“Because that’s amazing, you emo rock band.” Roman’s eyes practically sparkled with joy. “I can’t believe you can play two instruments -- I can’t even play _one.”_

“I can play more than two.” Virgil took Roman’s wide eyes as a sign to say how many. “I can play the violin, the guitar, piano and keyboard, drums -- I even played tenor sax in high school.” He listed each off on his fingers. He peered up through his bangs to see Roman staring at him. “What?”

Roman stepped up to him. “Would it be weird if I asked you to marry me right now?”

Virgil blinked. Heat crawled up his neck and he pushed Roman’s face to the side. “Yes. Now shut up and let’s go.”

The whole way back, Roman asked many different questions about Virgil’s musical expertise as if it was the most exciting thing in the world. Virgil didn’t quite get it, but he answered every question anyway.

Even as they entered the house Roman continued to express interest.

Virgil didn’t know how to handle it. So he did what he does best; avoid the problem. “Where’s Thomas?”

“Uh…” Roman stopped to look around. “Oh, there he is.” He pointed to the glass doors. Thomas was sitting out on the deck.

“C’mon, then.” Virgil led the way out with his keyboard tucked under his arm.

Thomas sat in one of the chairs with his sketchbook. He continued working as if he hadn’t noticed the two join him outside.

“What’cha got there, Thomas the Dank Engine?” Roman tried to peer over his shoulder.

Thomas squeaked and fumbled with his sketchbook. He snapped it closed before anyone could make out anything. “Roman?” He turned to look over at him. “And Virgil? When did you guys get here?”

“Just right now,” Virgil answered.

“Working on something secret?” Roman teased as he sat down.

Thomas flushed. He held the book close to his chest. “No. I-I just don’t let anyone see what I sketch out.” He tapped his pencil against the back cover. “They’re ideas for things I might paint later so they’re not really complete or anything.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Virgil decided to sit down as well. He moved the keyboard to rest on his lap.

“Whoa.” Thomas gazed at it with wide eyes. “You know how to play a keyboard?” He gasped, eyes moving up to Virgil. “Are you gonna play something?”

Virgil smirked. “Only if you want me to.”

“Yes!” His eyes brightened significantly. “Wait -- I’ll be right back.” He jumped out of the chair and ran back inside.

Roman and Virgil watched him go in amusement, glad to see him acting like himself already. Seeing Thomas with too much excitement was much better than him having none. Not that Virgil would ever admit that out loud or anything.

“Alright, I’m back.” Thomas came back out with a ukulele. He took his seat and gave Virgil a large grin. “We can be jam buds.”

There was that fuzzy feeling again. He tried to squash it down as best as he could.

“Does everyone know how to play an instrument here but me?” Roman groaned and threw his head back.

“Nuh-uh. Logan or Patton don’t know how to play one.” Thomas tried to give Roman an encouraging smile. “So you’re not alone.” He strummed the ukulele. “Oof. I should probably tune this.”

After that was settled, they started their jam session. Thomas and Roman both begged Virgil to show off his piano skills by playing at least one classical piece. Other than that, he and Thomas played songs they both knew together. They even did a few were Roman could sing along. And if there was something that one didn’t know then they would look up the music for it.

Virgil learned that Thomas couldn’t actually read music very well so he tried his best to help him. They even stopped so Virgil could explain the basics. It made him feel like Logan. Which was weird. But it allowed him to know that Thomas predominantly played by ear and many of the songs he had memorized were because he figured them out himself. That was something Virgil couldn’t do even if he wanted.

“I didn’t really have anyone to teach me.” Thomas strummed random chords. “I kind of learned it all on my own. The only reason I picked it up was 'cause my older brother played it.”

It took Virgil a moment to realize that this was the first time Thomas ever mentioned any other family member outside of Picani. Roman realized it too.

“Your brother --?”

Roman got cut off by Patton sticking his head out. “What are you boys up to out here?”

“We’re having a jam session,” Thomas responded with a bright smile. “Wanna join us?”

“Ooh sounds fun. Let me get Logan.”

Well, there went _that_ character backstory out the window. Maybe next time they’d get an actual opportunity to talk about it instead of getting plot-blocked by somebody.

Once Patton and Logan joined them, they continued their session. This time around everyone but Logan sang at least one song. Thomas and Roman even sang “I See The Light” together while Virgil played the background. (Then Roman proceeded to make fun of him for knowing that song at all since he seemed so anti-Disney all the time. Patton, of course, diffused the situation before it turned into an argument.)

Everyone had their own style for singing. Roman, ever the Disney prince, sang with confidence even if unsure of the lyrics. Contrasting his loud speaking voice, he could actually sing at low volumes -- and in fact, that was his default. Thomas sang as if he had been doing it his whole life. He put purpose behind every word and feeling into every note. Patton sang like he was telling a story. His voice flowed from note to note in a smooth arrangement. And then there was Virgil.

He didn’t like to sing much -- even if people have told him that he’s good at it. It always felt like he was off somehow so he kept silent. His singing was unsure and a whisper of what singing should be.

After a while, they all fell silent. It was a natural lull that didn’t feel heavy or awkward in any way. They were just taking a moment to enjoy the quiet. And maybe think up some more songs. Either way, they didn’t say anything to each other for a few seconds.

Virgil smirked.

He knew the perfect song to play. He took a silent breath before placing his hands over the keys. After a moment's hesitation, he played the starting glissando to “Love Like You” from _Steven Universe._  He noticed that Roman and Thomas gained huge grins. Now, Virgil had no intentions of singing the song -- he was just going to play the background track and see how long it took one of them to fill in the blanks -- but they all received a surprise.

Right on time with the music, a voice sang the opening lyrics. This wasn’t a voice that they heard sing before. It took them a minute to realize it was Logan.

Thomas looked like his dreams had been realized and Roman appeared to fall into a trance. Hell, Virgil himself was entranced. He was so shocked he almost stopped playing. But he didn’t dare let himself miss a single note.

The way they all listened to him, one might have thought that they never heard anyone sing before. They were so focused on his voice. Patton looked like he was seeing home for the first time in years.

Logan didn't turn to face any of them. Not even when the piano break started. He continued to sing as if no one was around to hear him in the first place.

Virgil couldn't wait to hear him sing the next verse. It was his favorite part of the song and he found himself wanting to hear Logan’s interpretation of it. The lead up to it on the piano was also quite fun to play, but he almost stopped playing again when Logan continued.

It sounded as if he truly resonated with the lyrics. It was the most emotion that any of them, besides Patton, had ever heard out of him. Somehow it managed to hurt so much.

 _I always thought I might be bad_  
_Now I’m sure that’s true_  
_‘Cause I think you’re so good_ _  
And I’m nothing like you_

Virgil didn’t want to read too much into that, but was it possible that Logan really did feel this way? It sounded so genuine. And coming from a guy whose prominent emotion is annoyance, it was more surprising than anything else.

At last, Logan turned himself away from the railing.

 _If I could begin to do_  
_Something that does right by you_  
_I would do about anything_ _  
I would even learn how to love_

Patton stared at him for a solid second. “Logan,” he squealed. He broke into a grin and launched himself into Logan’s arms. Logan stumbled but was able to recover and wrap his arms around him. Then he lifted him and spun him around, both laughing between themselves.

Virgil almost dropped the keyboard when they started glowing.

Their two forms became a bright light and started merging until a larger figure of light appeared in their place. As it started fading, they could see Picani continuing with the motion that Patton and Logan had been doing seconds before. His arms were even wrapped around himself. He stopped, giggling, and opened his eyes. He let out a small gasp. The joy vanished from his face only to be replaced by genuine shock.

The three sitting down stared back at him with the same expression.

They stared at each other for a moment or two before Picani was encased in light again. Patton and Logan burst out, stumbling, and catching themselves on the railing. No one breathed a word.

Until Patton emitted a soft laugh. “Remind you of the first time?” He looked right at Logan.

Logan flushed and turned away, but everyone caught the smile on his face.

Later that night, Virgil found himself alone in his room since he didn’t have work. Logan and Patton went off to do whatever it is that they do and Roman and Thomas were in the living room playing a 1v1 Uno round. He didn’t want to be involved in the chaos of that so he stayed away. The last time they did that there happened to be a lot of yelling and promises of vengeance.

He stepped out for a glass of water and regretted it right away. Their voices carried down the hall. But he decided to suck it up in favor of hydration. Logan would be proud. When Virgil got to the living room both Roman and Thomas were on their feet. He rolled his eyes at their antics and went on his aforementioned task.

“Virgil, we’ll be back, I have my honor to defend,” Thomas rushed out as he and Roman ran toward the door. “I won fair and square, Roman!” Then the door slammed shut on their argument.

Virgil didn’t even get a sip of water yet. Those two were a dangerous combination. After a sigh, Virgil downed his water and left to go back to his room. Until he saw Uno cards scattered over the living room floor, that is. “Thomas,” he groaned. They weren’t going to clean that up.

So Virgil took it upon himself to collect all the cards and put them into a neat pile. He had to look around for the box, however. He found it discarded on the other side of the love seat. How it managed to get there, he didn’t even want to know. He picked up the cards and slipped them into the box. Done and done. He went to set it down on the coffee table, with the intention of leaving a passive-aggressive note, but something caught his eye.

The back of the box had a strip of masking tape yellowed by time. Written on it in black permanent marker was a name. The ink proved to also fair the passage of time; certain areas were cracked or faded.

Which is why Virgil had a hard time believing the name on it. The longer he stared at it the more it caused his hand to shake. Written on the back of the box, in the shaky; immature scrawl of a child, was one name. And one name only.

_Thomas Sanders._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're gonna hate me next chapter


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil confronts Thomas. Tragic Backstory™ unlocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be out a few days ago but the winter semester is kinda kicking my butt

The longer Virgil sat alone on the couch the more pissed off he got. He felt lied to. This whole time Thomas told them that he didn't have magic -- he was a human just like them. If that were true, then why the hell was his name on this Uno box? One Picani bought “just for fun” almost fifty years ago?

He had been lying to them. From the moment they met, he lied. He wasn’t some kid -- he was like Patton and Logan. He was older than they realized.

Now it all made sense. Picani wouldn’t be looking after a human. Why would he? That was like a lion raising a giraffe. He would look after someone like him. A Magus. Thomas was a Magus. The moment that thought crossed his mind, Virgil got angrier.

He and Roman had been thrown into this world of magic almost two months ago. They were working their asses off to relieve Logan and Patton of their stress, but what was that all for? The sole reason they were in this at all was because of Thomas. Someone Virgil thought was just a defenseless kid. But he wasn’t. He tricked them. And they spent all this time under the same roof, but he never bothered to bring it up? Did they not deserve that? Were they not trusted?

The loopy, slanted writing mocked him. It matched the condition of the box. There couldn’t be any other time this name was slapped on there. It had to be done when the box was new. Now he was sure that Thomas had been lying to them.

Then the door opened.

Roman and Thomas trampled in with laughter joining them. It looked like they had raced each other to get in first. Thomas spotted Virgil and grinned at him. He walked over to him while Roman locked the door.

“Hey, Virgil, what are you doing out here?” His voice was somewhat breathless. His cheeks and nose were rosy as if a sharp wind blew against him.

Virgil didn’t answer. He moved his eyes down to his lap. His hands were folded over the box. “How old are you, Thomas?”

“Uh,” Thomas’s brows furrowed. “Seventeen.”

“And how long have you been seventeen?”

He froze. 

Roman walked around and leaned against the arm of the sofa to join the conversation. 

“Uh.” Thomas let out a nervous chuckle. “What are you asking that for? I’ve been seventeen for a few months. That’s usually how ages work.”

“Usually.” Virgil tossed the box at him.

He caught it against his chest. He looked at Virgil in confusion then down at the box. His eyes widened.

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but you said yourself that Picani bought this sometime in the late seventies, right?” Thomas kept quiet. “And Roman mentioned that Uno cards weren’t mass produced until ‘77. So then why would you, a seventeen-year-old boy, have your name written on it? You shouldn’t have been born until 2001, right?”

Thomas fidgeted. “Let me explain --”

“How old are you, really?” Virgil stood up. Thomas curled in on himself. “You just look seventeen, but you’re older than that, aren’t you?”

“Virge,” Roman warned.

Virgil ignored him. He took a few steps closer. Thomas took one back. “Is there anything else you’ve been keeping from us? What else have you been lying about?”

“I-I --” Thomas couldn’t make himself look any smaller.

“You’ve been deceiving us since the moment we met. Has anything you’ve ever done been truthful? Are you even who you say you are? Do you have magic you’ve been keeping from us, too?”

“No, Virgil, I --” He cut himself off due to Virgil’s glare.

“You have to tell us everything.” Virgil jabbed a finger onto Thomas’s chest. “Everything you’ve been keeping from us -- everything you’ve lied about. All of it.”

Thomas looked horrified at that. “A-all of it?”

“If you don’t tell me the truth right now, I swear to God, I am walking right out that door and never coming back.” He pointed at the door for emphasis.

“Virgil,” Roman hissed. He pushed him an arm's length away from Thomas. “What’s gotten into you? You can’t just make a demand like that -- what gives you the right?”

Virgil opened his mouth to fire a retort, but he didn’t get to.

“I’m ninety-four.” The two turned to look at Thomas. He stared at his toes. “I was born in Florida on April twenty-fourth, 1924. I wanted to tell you guys, I swear, but Logan and Patton said it would be safer the less you knew.” He looked up at them, tears brimming in his eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“You’re ninety-four?” Roman whispered.

Virgil couldn’t find his voice.

“Please don’t be mad.” The tears started falling. “I don’t have magic -- I never have. That’s why all the Figments call me a runt o-or a disgrace. Because that’s what I am. I’m defective.” He looked down at the box in his hands. “M-my family -- my parents a-and all my brothers -- they all have magic. I’m the only one that doesn’t.” He looked at Virgil, tears streaming down his face. “Please don’t make me say any more. Please. I-I can’t -- I don’t want to. I --” A sob escaped his mouth instead of words.

Oh no.

“Woah, hey,” Roman soothed. “It’s alright. You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to.” He put a hand on his shoulder.

Thomas covered his mouth and continued to cry.

Fuck. Virgil felt like a huge asshole. He didn’t want this to happen. He just wanted the truth. “Thomas…” He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. God, he really fucked up. If he stopped to think for one second then he wouldn’t have overreacted. He didn’t know what to do.

The back door opened. Patton and Logan’s voices carried with their footsteps. They stopped when they stumbled into the scene in the living room, smiles falling off their faces. Virgil figured karma wanted to stab him in back. Literally. Logan was holding a sword.

“You’re all still up.” It wasn’t a question from Logan but a statement. His sharp eyes scanned the situation and he didn’t seem too pleased with what he found. The sword in his hand glistened.

“Thomas?” Patton’s voice was soft, yet it carried the whole way.

Thomas didn’t say anything. He turned around and sprinted up the stairs. A door slammed closed.

“What happened?” Patton looked between Roman and Virgil. His eyes made Virgil’s chest twist around.

Roman turned to Virgil. Virgil couldn’t speak.

Logan sighed. “We can discuss that later.” He put a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “You should go talk to him.”

“Me?” Patton looked up at the loft, uncertainty on his features, then back to Logan. “I think I might be only part of who he needs to talk to.”

Logan grimaced. “I’m sure he’d want to, but he can’t last longer than a few seconds.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Virgil finally got his mouth to work.

“What?” Roman looked at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. Do you think he’s going to want to talk to you?”

“He doesn’t have to talk. He just has to listen.”

Roman still didn’t look convinced.

“Um,” Patton started awkwardly. “Why doesn’t Virgil just go up to see if Thomas wants to talk and Roman can tell us what happened?” He gave an unsure smile.

“Fine.” Roman crossed his arms. “But I’m sure you’ll change your mind after I tell you.”

Virgil ignored that and headed up the stairs.

He had never been up in the loft before; he didn’t know which door would lead to Thomas’s room. There were three doors with all of them being closed. He noticed, however, that there was a little chalkboard hanging on one of them. The phrase “just keep swimming” written in pink chalk with a few crudely drawn fish. It looked like someone tried to erase it, but stopped partway through.

Taking a deep breath, Virgil knocked on the door. He leaned toward it to see if he could hear anything, but it didn’t sound like anyone was moving. “Hey, kid --”  _ He isn’t one -- _ “are you doing okay in here?” There wasn’t an answer. “If you want me to leave you can just say so but if not then I’m coming in.” He waited a moment. He didn’t get a response.

So he did what he said he would do. He entered the room and closed the door behind him. The inside wasn’t anything he was expecting. A string of lights encircled the room. All four walls were intricately painted. Each wall had a different design that flowed into the next which made it look like one large painting. It filled the room with bright and swirling colors.

Along one of the walls was a desk. Paint brushes and bottles were scattered about it. A few canvases rested atop the shelf of it -- displaying finished works of varying complexity. There were also some stacked under the desk, unused. Only one canvas was on the desk and Virgil recognized it as the first one he ever saw. It didn’t look any closer to completion, however. The hooded figure still knelt in the dead grass with their hand extended toward nothing.

Virgil moved his eyes from that over to the bed. Thomas laid curled up on it with his back toward the door. Virgil frowned, guilt welling up inside him, but walked over there anyway. He stopped when his foot hit something that wasn’t floor. The Uno box stared up at him with Thomas’s name innocently scribbled on it.

Alright, universe, he got it. He overreacted to something. It’s not like that was surprising or anything.

He stepped over it to continue on his way. He sat down on the bed, but found he didn’t have any idea what to say. A sorry would be in order, of course, though that didn’t feel like enough. “You didn’t happen to be locked in a tower before, did you?”

Thomas didn’t react to it.

Yeah, that was a bad joke anyway. “Okay, look,” Virgil moved so one leg would be on the bed and he could face Thomas. Well, his back at least. “I didn’t -- I didn’t mean to get so harsh with you. It just felt like I couldn’t trust you and I, I got scared. You had a reason to do what you did. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad.” He paused. It still didn’t feel like enough. “I’m sorry. I won’t force you to tell me anything you don’t want to -- you don’t ever have to tell me anything again if that makes you feel better. I just -- I need you to know that I didn’t intend to hurt you. That might be hard to believe, but it’s true. I made a mistake. And I’m sorry.”

Thomas still didn’t respond.

Virgil sighed. He didn’t need Thomas to say anything. He said what he needed to and that was the point. So why, then, did it hurt so much? Well, perhaps it was time to face the consequences downstairs.

“Do you remember,” Thomas’s quiet voice kept Virgil from getting up, “when we first talked about Steven Universe? We all said our favorite characters except you. You didn’t have one.”

“Then you guys made me watch all of the seasons,” Virgil responded. He remembered that well. “Why?”

“Because the Thomas with you then is still with you now.” Virgil couldn’t think of a response to that. “I didn’t mean to trick you, but it’s still me. No matter how much you do or don’t know isn’t going to change who I am. I didn’t put on a persona so you would believe I was a seventeen-year-old human. I didn’t lie about me. I just hid what you wouldn’t want to see.”

Virgil stayed silent for a moment. “I get that now.” Another moment of silence washed over them. “It’s Lapis, by the way. My favorite character.”

Thomas let out a puff of air resembling laughter. “Roman was right.”

“Just don’t say that to his face. His ego is big enough as it is.”

Silence once more. Though this time it was broken by Thomas. 

“I might not have been entirely truthful about my favorite character.” He sat up but kept his back toward Virgil. “I mean, Steven is great. I still like him a lot, but… it’s more like I can, I don’t know, idolize him or something. At first, he couldn’t control any of his powers and he didn’t know about the things he could do. He didn’t even know what he was because there was no one else like him -- and I understood that.” He ran his hand along the bed sheet, smoothing out the folds. “But then, after season three, I realized there was someone else I could relate to a lot more.

“Amethyst is so much like me. We’re meant to be something else -- something better -- but we aren’t. We’re just puny little runts that came out wrong.” His fingers curled around the sheets. “But I never wanted to be like her. I wanted to be like Steven because Steven can do so many things. He can unlock powers that he should have and he can train to get better at them. That’s why I always say he’s my favorite. He’s someone I wish I could be.” He paused. His next words came out rushed. “D-don’t tell the others. I’ve never even told Picani that before.”

Virgil frowned. “You’re not a runt, Thomas. You didn’t come out wrong -- you came out like you. You’re special regardless of what you think you have to be. There isn’t anyone else like you. I’ve certainly never met anyone like you before. So who cares about being Steven or Amethyst. You’re Thomas Sanders. You’re already so unique. That’s all that anyone should care about.”

There wasn’t an immediate reaction. It took Thomas a moment to turn and throw himself into Virgil’s arms, hands gripping the back of his hoodie as if he would disappear. Virgil froze. He didn’t expect this. Hesitantly, he brought his arms up to wrap around Thomas. They stayed like that for a while. Virgil muttered reasurances while Thomas sobbed into his shoulder.

This kid deserved the world.

After a while, Thomas grew quiet. The soft breaths Virgil felt indicated that he cried himself to sleep. Which of course just made Virgil feel  _ great _ about everything. He wanted to take it all back -- stop himself from confronting Thomas in the way that he did. But he couldn’t. What was it that Patton said about regrets? Just add it to the list? Well, that was all he could do now anyway.

He shifted so he could have a better time laying Thomas down. He had to move his arms since he still had a loose grip on his hoodie. The action caused him to stir a bit, but otherwise, he stayed asleep. Letting out a silent breath, Virgil slipped off the bed. He pulled the blankets over Thomas and waited to see if he would stay sleeping. He did.

Virgil left the room, stopping once to look back at Thomas’s sleeping form, then closed the door behind him.

Oh jeez.

He didn’t want to head downstairs. Roman must have told Patton and Logan everything by now. If he’s learned anything in these many weeks, it’s that Patton could be a real mama bear. And he wasn’t ready to deal with that. He tried his best to tiptoe down the stairs, but ended up getting spotted anyway.

“Virgil,” Logan spoke with his voice more flat than normal. “Could you come here a minute? We’d like to have a word with you.”

Fuck. 

Virgil idled at the base of the staircase. “Y’know, I’d feel a little more comfortable talking  _ without _ the sword on the table.”

“I’m sure you would.”

This was it. He was going to die. He would never again experience life and all of its chaotic beauty. Logan was going to kill him. Out of all the ways, he’d never thought he’d go out like this. Okay, maybe he had been spending too much time with Roman…

Mentally preparing himself for whatever should come next, Virgil walked over to sit at his spot. The space between him and Roman was bigger than normal.

“Alright,” Virgil tried not to feel so awkward, “what are we talking about?”

Logan took in a deep breath. “There are things that were hidden from you for a reason -- for Thomas’s protection as well as your own. It would have been best for you to not find out at a time such as this. I understand your need to learn more --”

“But you went about it the wrong way,” Patton interrupted. “You didn’t have to do it the way you did.”

Virgil lowered his gaze. “I know. I overreacted. You can get mad at me or whatever. I get it.”

Patton and Logan exchanged a glance. “We’re not going to get mad,” Logan explained. “We’re disappointed for certain, and there’s no way you’re getting off easy, but you had a point.”

Wait, what? That isn’t what Virgil expected to happen at all. He glanced at Roman, but his gaze wasn’t returned. “I didn’t, uh, what?”

“You’ve been doing so much for us,” Patton continued. “It was wrong to try to keep such a big secret from you when you’ve already seen so many unexplainable things. You’re here to help us and we should have given you a little more trust.”

“We just wanted to do the right thing,” Logan added, voice somewhat quiet.

This night was getting far too heavy for Virgil to handle. He didn’t know how he should be responding. “Why is it so important for us to not know Thomas’s true age?” He hoped that didn’t come off as rude. Wouldn’t want to piss off the guy who knew how to use a sword.

Patton and Logan exchanged another glance. “It isn’t so much the age as it is what comes with it,” Patton started slowly. “A long time ago there was some… trouble.” He ran his right thumb over his left palm as if to ease some sort of discomfort. Perhaps the discomfort wasn’t physical.

“Thomas comes from a family of -- for lack of a better word -- purebloods,” Logan proceeded. “His parents’ parents and their parents all had magic. Thomas is the only one in a long line of descendents to be magic-less.”

“That wasn’t a bad thing,” Patton jumped back in. “It didn’t matter to us because we loved him regardless. But some people, some bad Magi, found out. They didn’t care how much we loved Thomas because to them he shouldn’t have even existed.”

Virgil scowled a bit at that. It was odd to hear someone not wanting Thomas around. But not just someone -- multiple people. How could anyone think of a kid like that?

“They came after us. We -- Picani, was told to take Thomas and run.” Logan studied the floor. “We weren’t to stop until we got somewhere safe. And that’s what we did until we ended up here.”

“So what happened to everyone else, then?” Virgil’s voice sounded out of place compared to Logan and Patton’s solemn tones. “Thomas’s parents and brothers, I mean.”

Patton grabbed Logan's hand. “We don't know,” Logan sighed. “We traveled across the country just to get away. We've never been able to contact them.”

“You never went back?”

“I also wondered that,” Roman said. His voice lacked his usual style. “If you were such close friends then why did you never go back? What about their other sons?”

Close friends? How much did they actually talk about while Virgil was gone?

“Let me put this in a way you'll understand.” Logan shifted to sit up straighter. “Say you're eighteen, your home is under attack by people who want to murder you -- you specifically. Because your existence offends them. So your best friend tells you you need to leave. Then she shoves her five year old son into your arms and begs you to keep him safe. And now you have to run. 

“You have to run before anyone sees you because if you're spotted then you and this little boy are going to die for being different. So now you're homeless, penniless, and have a child to take care of. And it doesn't matter where you are -- you're going to keep running. You're going to run and run because nowhere is safe for either of you. So tell me, would you stop for even a second to look back?”

Point taken.

Roman and Virgil shared a look. They didn’t have anything to say to that. This was a lot more complex than they thought. And even then it only seemed like the surface of things.

“It’s been almost ninety years,” Patton murmured. He stared at his hand intertwined with Logan’s. “We’d like to think that they’re all okay.”

Suddenly, all at once, everything came crashing down. The reality that Thomas has spent most of his life running from people who would wish to do him harm hit Virgil at full force. This wasn’t some story. This had happened. He was forced to leave his family behind and hadn’t seen them since. How in the hell could he be so smiley all the time? It’s no wonder he broke down when Virgil confronted him.

Now he felt like an even bigger jerk.

They didn’t discuss anything further after that. There couldn’t be anything else to say. While it felt more of a summary of events, it was still a lot to take in. Everything that had been said tonight held a lot of weight.

So Virgil stared up at the ceiling, sleep alluding him for the first time in a while. Too many thoughts were running around his head. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long before another idea shoved its way in.

The time on his phone blinded him with 3:33 AM. No sleep tonight, then. Great. 

Sighing, Virgil rolled out of bed. The room had become more familiar to him as time went along. Comforting, yet not quite his home. Maybe it might not ever be. He put on his hoodie and shoved on his shoes before walking out the door, hoping to ignore all these complex feelings. He needed a walk.

He stopped to stare at the front door. No one was meant to leave the house without someone else, but right now Virgil didn’t want to see anyone. Plus, it was an odd hour in the morning. It would just be a quick walk around -- nothing would happen. He was sure of it. He would get out then in before anyone knew it.

Before any doubts could get in his way, Virgil decided to leave. He followed the pavement down to the main road and looked around. It was odd being out at this time. The latest he’s ever been out is after the bar closes at two. What a difference an hour can make. The streetlights were the only thing alive. No cars drove passed and no people were out. At least right now, anyway.

Virgil pulled his hood over his head and put his hands into his pockets before picking a direction. Five minutes tops. He didn’t want to wait around for someone else to show up.

Ever since this whole thing started, walking at night seemed like no big deal. Almost like whatever the night had to offer wasn’t anything compared to what he’s been seeing. Besides, he knew how to protect himself now. Not that he wanted to show off those skills or anything, but it eliminated about half his fears. Staying out for a short while would be fine.

Though something felt off. With each step Virgil took, a sinking feeling weighed down his stomach. He couldn’t place it, but something was wrong. Just --  _ something. _ He stopped and peered over his shoulder. No one there. He turned back around and almost had a heart attack.

A woman stood in front of him. An odd thing that Virgil noticed (other than her appearing out of nowhere) was her clothing. Plucked straight from a fashion magazine a few decades ago. Now that the shock passed, Virgil thought it looked like  _ she _ was plucked straight from a fashion magazine a few decades ago. Her makeup and hair wasn’t anything modern. Almost like…

“Oh, crap.”

No sooner did the words leave his mouth that the Figment threw a punch. On a reflex he didn’t know he had, he reflected it -- his forearm hitting its and pushing it away. He took its surprise as an opportunity to turn and run.

Wait a minute -- he couldn’t lead this back to the house! He had to find some other way out. 

A hand grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie and yanked him back.

“The Master is getting real tired of having you all escape.” A slight tone of anger seeped into its voice.

“Maybe he should stop trying so hard, then.” Virgil threw his elbow back and dropped his weight. There came a loud rip near his ear. He regained his footing and turned around to face the Figment. The cloth of his hoodie near his shoulder sagged down to reveal his shirt; the seam had split. He groaned in annoyance. “Can you guys stop tearing this thing?”

The Figment didn’t react to that. It rushed forward and then Virgil found himself backing up while trying to protect himself from any blows. It moved faster than he could -- faster than many people could. It wanted to take Virgil down.

Virgil was determined to not have that happen.

Until he fell backwards. 

A lift in the concrete caused his heel to hit it and lose his footing. Damn crummy sidewalks.

The Figment stood over him. It slammed its foot down on his chest, further knocking the air out of his lungs. “I’m sure the Master will be pleased to know that at least one of you has been eliminated.” Its foot slid up to his neck. “Oh don’t worry. Your other little human friend will join you soon.”

Virgil glared up at it. These things sure loved to talk. Maybe if he could --

What could be interpreted as shock crossed its features. A sword poked out through its abdomen. Ink seeped into its clothing before going up in smoke.

“L-Logan?” Virgil coughed out. He struggled to sit up. “You just carry that around with you?” He nodded toward the sword.

“Yes.” Logan twisted the pommel and everything retracted into it. It couldn’t have been any bigger than a compact mirror. He put it into his pajama pants pocket -- which Virgil noted had Jack Skellington faces on them.

“Nice pants.” He picked himself off the floor.

Logan didn’t look very amused. “What are you doing out here, Virgil? I thought you were the cautious one. We made up rules about leaving on your own for a reason.”

Virgil shrugged. “I just needed some new scenery.” He crossed his arms. “What are  _ you _ doing out here?”

“I saw you leaving.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing up?”

He noticed how Logan’s left hand flexed and twitched. “Contrary to what you may believe, I  _ do  _ have a hard time sleeping.”  _ Liar. _ “It would be best if we leave now before any others show up.” He paused before making any moves. “It didn’t see where you came from, right?”

“No.” At least, he didn’t think so. It couldn’t have. It didn’t follow him until after he picked a direction to walk in.

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting to get into things I've had planned since the beginning. Can't wait


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and Roman get some upgrades. (They should probably learn how they work first)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late night upload. My birthday present to myself is finally being able to set this free
> 
> **TW: Body horror (minor)**

Virgil stared up at the canopy of trees, his face contorted in a tight grimace. He couldn’t breathe.

Logan came into his field of view looking rather unimpressed. He put a hand on his hip. “If you sit up you’ll feel better. Take slow breaths and you’ll be fine.” He walked out of Virgil’s line of sight.

He had gotten dragged out of bed this morning after a measly three hours of sleep. Patton and Logan decided that an early session of training was in order. But by training, they meant Logan got to kick the shit out of him while Roman laughed.

Virgil sat up and took a shuddering breath. It felt like a rock was sitting in his lungs. “You know this was a lot funnier when you were doing it to Roman,” his voice came out strained.

“I don't know about these guys, but I personally think this version is better.” Roman gave him a sly grin.

Logan stood next to Patton with his arms crossed. “You’re just lucky Patton convinced me not to use a sword.”

Comforting. “Wow, thanks.” Virgil got to his feet and winced. His whole body strained under the pressure of being alive at this moment. “Have you got it out of your system?”

“Hmm.” Logan feigned being deep in thought. “I’m unsure. Patton, what do you think?”

Patton also pretended to think hard about it. His eyes scanned Virgil up and down. He smirked a bit. “I think he’s learned his lesson.”

Virgil sighed in relief. He didn’t know if he could handle any more ass kicking. Logan was a lot stronger than he looked.

“Congratulations, Virgil.” Roman jumped up from the log. “You survived.” He patted Virgil’s back using a lot more force than necessary.

“Ow,” Virgil puffed.

They trekked back up to the house.

Once inside, Patton set about to making breakfast. Roman and Logan made their coffee, and Virgil laid down on the sofa since it was the softest place for his poor body. He threw an arm over his eyes and tried to ignore the possible bruises forming. All he knew was pain.

After a few minutes alone, something landed on Virgil’s stomach. He lifted up his arm to see Logan smirking at him from around the rim of his mug. A spool of white thread stood where it landed.

“Figured you’d want to fix your little issue.” Then he walked back to the kitchen.

What a smug bastard.

Virgil lifted himself up, letting the spool fall into his lap. Taking off his hoodie hurt a lot more than it should have. He examined the tear. The seam connecting the arm to the rest of the hoodie was split. Another unfortunate tragedy to befall his close friend. What a shame. Ah, well, at least it wouldn’t be falling apart by the end of this. Sewing skills to the rescue.

As he worked on fixing that, Roman, Logan, and Patton all ended up joining him in the living room. He had to keep his legs bent so Roman would be able to sit down but he didn’t mind. He half listened to their conversation with most of his focus going into repairs. The path their conversation was leading towards, however, caused Virgil to halt his progress.

A magical being -- not just a Magus, but any magical creature -- aged slowly. How slowly they aged depended on the species and sometimes the magic type. A human-passing Magus such as Logan would age faster than another humanoid Magus such as an elf. Their lifespans were long and continuous. It was always hard to tell exactly how long, since many older Magi were hard to come by, but the average seemed to be about three thousand years.

An age impossible for any human to ever reach. Even the oldest humans must seem like babies to people like Patton and Logan. A fruit fly compared to a tortoise.

All humanoid Magi aged normally until between the ages of twelve and eighteen; that’s when normal aging stopped and slow aging started. No two stopping ages were the same -- not even for siblings of the same family. A “magical puberty” as Thomas called it once. For example, Patton had stopped at sixteen while Logan didn’t stop until eighteen. That’s why Logan looked older than Patton (and got the butt of all the old man jokes) when it was actually the other way around.

There wasn’t a direct conversion of Magus to human years; there were too many variables that often got in the way of that. Two Magi from the same year with the same stopping age of thirteen could have two different aging factors. One could still be looking thirteen well into their eighties, but the other could be looking sixteen at the same time. It was tricky and annoying, and kind of hard to follow, but that was how it was.

“I just -- I can’t --” Roman rubbed his temples. “Thomas is like twelve. I can’t even see him as older than me. He’s a little baby boy.”

“Just because he has the physical appearance of a teenager doesn’t mean he is,” Logan pointed out. “He’s older than your grandparents.”

“So how old does that make you?” Roman smirked.

“Wait --” Virgil joined in.

“That’s not important.” Logan glared at Roman from over the rim of his mug.

“-- if Thomas doesn’t have magic how can he age slowly?”

“That’s something none of us have been able to figure out,” Patton said. “But to be fair, he _does_ age a bit faster than his brothers.”

Logan set his mug down. “And that’s something that isn’t typical in families.”

Virgil frowned down at the hole still in his hoodie. It seemed like any time something started to make sense, a new thing got thrown into the mix. Why couldn’t things be simple?

“We do have a theory --” Patton cut himself off as the phone on the coffee table started to ring. He gasped at the name displayed. “Oh no.”

“Answer it,” Logan demanded, somewhat panicked.

“What? Me?” Patton stared at the phone in fear. “Why?”

“You know why.” Logan picked up the phone and tried to hand it to Patton. “Answer it.”

Patton hesitated. “I-I can’t -- you know I can’t.”

“I understand how you feel, but we can’t just ignore him. Picani needs to answer.” Logan moved it closer to Patton.

He still didn’t make a move to grab the phone.

“Patton!”

“Fine!” Patton snatched the phone out of Logan’s hand and brought it up to his ear. The displeasure melted off his face with a cheery, “Hello,” in a voice not his own but Picani’s. A perfect imitation.

Everyone else waited in silence to listen to a one-sided conversation.

“Yes, I -- no.” Patton frowned a bit as the person on the other line spoke. “I understand, sir, but I… Today?” He gave Logan a frantic look. “I-I don’t think you understand how much I physically cannot do that… Yeah… Pretty bad… I’m not entirely sure how long… Yes... Thank you. I’ll come in as soon as I can… Of course. Goodbye.”  He hung up and sunk down into his seat with a sigh.

“What happened?” Logan set the phone back on the coffee table.

“We might get a stern talking to when we get back,” Patton spoke in his own, normal voice. He gave Logan a weak smile. “But I think we’re in the clear.”

Logan frowned. It looked like he wanted to respond, but he didn’t get to.

“What are you all doing up so early?” Thomas yawned as he walked down the stairs. “It’s not even ten yet.” He wore the same outfit as yesterday; he hadn’t bothered to change.

Roman turned over his shoulder. “Wow, you look like crap.”

Virgil kicked his side.

“Thanks. I try.” Thomas gave a lazy smile and awkward finger guns.

“Breakfast is in the kitchen,” Patton said, eyes never leaving Thomas as he walked. “You might want to reheat it.”

He got a thumbs-up in response.

“You’re still banned from coffee, by the way,” Logan continued. As if to add insult to injury, he took a sip of his own coffee.

Thomas groaned loudly in response.

“Banned from coffee?” Roman inquired. “Why coffee?”

“He’s not responsible,” responded Logan and Patton. Though one sounded more distracted than the other.

The longer the two spent unfused, the less they talked at the same time. When they did, it came out more naturally rather than sounding like someone speaking through them. It may have been a sign of Picani being gone for so long, but it made conversations a lot less creepy.

After Thomas finished his breakfast, he flopped face down into the love seat. Patton and Logan had gone off to have a private discussion and Roman was in the kitchen cleaning out the coffee pot.

“I’m going to guess you didn’t sleep very well.” Virgil studied his hoodie as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. The stitch job was mediocre at best.

Thomas spoke, but it sounded like muffled noises.

“Right. Well, a breakdown like that often comes with side effects.”

Thomas turned his head to look at him. His eyes were more than one kind of tired. “It’s shit.”

Virgil blinked in surprise. He had never heard Thomas curse before. Part of him was convinced the world wouldn't have allowed him to do so. “Yeah. It is.”

God, he looked like a miserable kid. He  _ was _ a miserable kid. Despite him being way older than Virgil, he was still a child by magic standards. He hadn’t even lived half his life expectancy, yet it looked like he had been through too much of it already. No kid should ever look like that. It made Virgil’s heart hurt.

“I’m still really sorry about everything. I shouldn't have done that.”

Thomas waved his hand. “S’fine. Deserved it.” He sighed. “Should have told you everything before.”

Virgil furrowed his brows. Uh. No. Absolutely not. That was an unacceptable answer. No depreciating reasoning allowed here in Virgil’s presence. He was the only one allowed to think lowly of himself. “Thomas, whatever is going through your head right now is a lie. You in no way deserved how I treated you.”

“That can be pretty hard to believe.”

“I get it.” Virgil was going to force positivity into this kid’s head one way or another. “But you didn’t do anything wrong. You did everything you were meant to and I forced it out of you when you weren’t ready. So if you say anything else about it being your fault then I’m going to physically fight you.”

Thomas snorted. “I don’t think that’ll help.”

“Yeah, but it might knock some sense into you.”

“A bit too literally, I think.” He smiled.

Virgil smiled back.

“You guys are cute,” Roman said from the kitchen. He was leaning over the bar with his head in his hand. His expression showed that he had been listening in the whole time. “Really makes my heart full.”

“I still have a needle here and I’m not afraid to use it.” Virgil turned to glare at him.

Roman held his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying.”

The two bickered back and forth with Thomas watching in amusement. For the most part, he kept his mouth shut and let the chaos unfold. They were arguing for the sake of arguing; their topics stemmed farther and farther away from the original one. Neither of them wanted to give the other the satisfaction of winning.

“Alright that’s enough,” Logan said as he walked in with Patton. “Stop talking, it’s time to listen.” He gave both Virgil and Roman a pointed look. As if they were children who shouldn’t have been left alone. “Patton and I decided, for no reason in particular --” Virgil felt as if that were aimed toward him somehow -- “that it might be best to step up your defenses in case of a less than ideal scenario.”

“So what does that mean?” Roman asked.

Logan paused. “I think it might be best if we showed you.”

The three followed Logan and Patton downstairs to the first floor. A floor that Roman and Virgil had yet to examine in full. They had no reason to go down there most of the time. All it held was a washroom and a few other extra rooms. Nothing special.

Patton and Logan stopped at the last door. They looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them, before Patton took out a key from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a bare room. No furniture or pictures or any other things of that sort. It was completely barren. A fresh new room that had yet to be touched.

“Just, uh,” Patton started. “Don’t stand near any walls.”

On instinct, all three of them moved more toward the center. Logan didn’t leave Patton’s side. He grabbed his hand. Patton placed his other hand on the wall and traced out a shape. For some reason, Virgil recognized it from one of his old star map books. A constellation. He couldn’t remember the name but remembered what it was supposed to be: the eagle.

Once Patton removed his hand, the wall did something weird. It shifted -- wobbled, even -- like a cartoon’s interpretation of quicksand. It spread and moved to the three other walls. As this happened, objects began to slide out from within the walls; indiscernible at first, but clear as day once the whole thing came into view.

“Holy crap,” Roman uttered.

Virgil had those exact sentiments. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this.

The walls solidified after pulling out an entire armory. Weapons were lined up in no discernable order with variants of things ranging from swords to staves. Some weren’t even weapons -- just everyday objects. Though Virgil had a feeling that might have been what they looked like on the outside; a facade for what they truly were. Magic seemed to really be into that whole pretending thing.

“So how long has this been here, exactly?” Thomas asked as he began to circle the room. “I mean we’ve been living here for like twenty years already -- how have I not seen this?”

“Because you weren’t supposed to,” Patton answered. “All of these items have some sort of magical property to them. So we keep them here so that no one can get hurt.” He looked around at all the walls. “This is everything we’ve collected over the years.”

“Collected?” Roman stopped studying a double-edged sword to turn toward Patton. “Why would you collect them?”

Patton sighed. “Oh, the usual. Got into the wrong hands, someone who doesn’t understand their use got a hold of them -- all those types of things.” He shrugged. “Anyway, the reason you’re here is to pick one.”

Apparently, that’s all Roman needed to hear before making a bee-line straight toward one of the walls.

Virgil didn’t budge from his spot in the middle of the room. “I don’t know how comfortable I am about handling any of these things.”

“Well if you learn how to handle them correctly then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about,” Logan sassed. “Trust us, Virgil, once you know what you’re doing it isn’t scary anymore.”

“Yeah -- Logan couldn’t even hold a dagger without feeling nervous,” Patton teased. It earned him a glare. “What? I was practically handed a longbow straight out of the womb. I never got scared of this stuff.”

“Yes, but I seem to recall you screaming when you saw me practice with a sword for the first time.” Logan crossed his arms

“I didn’t want you to get hurt!”

Virgil rolled his eyes. He decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and look around the room. He didn’t get too close to the walls, however. That anxious part of him was convinced that being close to them would hurt him somehow. It didn’t make much sense, then again, it didn’t have to. As long as it sounded scary then Virgil would listen to it.

There were many different weapon types. Some looked ordinary, others had a cliche magic aesthetic. Interesting. But nothing Virgil felt drawn to. Unlike Roman, who seemed to have his eyes set on a katana-like sword.

Virgil let him be in favor of examining all the different designs of the various weapon types. He let his eyes and body wander until he spotted something. Or rather, two somethings. Two matching daggers. Only one had a sheath, whereas the other showed off the blade. The handles were black. The blade was a deep purple with what resembled cracks of lightning etched into it and colored in with white. Something about them called his name. A soft whisper at the back of his mind.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at them, but he realized a conversation was happening next to him. He blinked out of his weird trance and tried to focus on Roman and Logan’s voices.

“It’s kind of like leveling up in a video game,” Logan explained for something. “The more you train with it, the more experience you gain. Gain enough of it, and the sword will get stronger.”

Roman stared at the katana in his hands. “I’m already sold.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “If you manage to gain enough experience with that then there might be a point where no one but you can wield it. It’s enchanted to get stronger with you.”

“You don’t even have to keep explaining it. I love it already.”

Virgil jumped when Patton’s voice came from beside him, “Did you find something you liked?”

“Jesus, Patton, warn a dude next time.” He put a hand to his chest.

“Sorry.” Patton gave him a sheepish grin. “I just noticed that you hadn’t really left this wall so I came to see what was up. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He gazed up at the wall. “So what caught your eye?”

Virgil hesitated. He didn’t know why, but he felt embarrassed about his choice. Like it wasn’t good enough or something. Sure, they seemed to have seen some use, but that didn’t make them any less cool looking. Without saying a word he pointed to the spot on the wall.

Patton followed his finger to the twin daggers. “Wow, really?” He stood on his tiptoes to reach them. When he pulled them from the wall, it rippled like a broken calm of water. “These things have been with us for a while. One of the sheaths might have got a bit -- um -- incinerated, but everything else is in good condition.” He smiled and handed them to Virgil.

Virgil didn't make a move to grab them. His instincts were telling him that sharp objects were bad, but something else insisted that he needed to hold them. He fought between the two until one came out victorious and he took the daggers from Patton. They were heavier than he anticipated. Still, the handles felt natural in his hands. “So what's so special about them?”

“We don't actually know.” Patton shrugged. “They passed the magic test, but we never figured out what they did. They never responded to us." He seemed to realize how awful that sounded to Virgil. "But they're not dangerous or anything. So don't worry about that.”

Of course. Mysterious magic daggers. Because he couldn't have chosen something with less unknown variables. “There's a chance they won't respond to me either, then?”

“Yup. Then they'd just be normal daggers.”

Slightly more comforting, but still nerve-wracking. They always could decide to respond to him, and then he’d have to learn how to deal with their magic in addition to trying to use them right. That wouldn’t have been pleasant. It was scary enough with two sharp objects -- he didn’t need magic thrown in the mix.

“Hey, Patton,” Thomas called. “What’s this?” He reached for a 1920s style headband on the wall. Braided black beads with white feathers. Elegant, yet simple. The back looked to have been snapped with the ends tied to stop any beads from falling.

Patton was over there in an instant. He seized Thomas’s wrist and yanked it away. “Don’t touch that,” he snapped.

Virgil and Thomas stared at him with wide eyes. They had never heard him so harsh before.

“Patton…?” Thomas asked hesitantly. He looked unsure on how to proceed.

Patton’s eyes widened. He let go of Thomas’s wrist. “Sorry, just --” He turned to the headband with an expression of disapproval. Unmistakable distaste for this random, broken object. He pushed it back into the wall with his finger. Once again, a ripple effect happened. “Bad memories.”

“It’s broken, anyway,” Logan muttered. He and Roman heard the whole thing. “It won’t form the weapon anymore.” He kept his eyes on the ground.

Virgil didn’t know if it was just him, but he felt tense. His whole body became heavy with an unknown pressure. Like a spring being held down in a tight coil without any sign of release.

“I’m going to head upstairs. Patton, you can continue doing, uh, this.” Logan waved his hand around the room. He left without waiting for a response, keeping his head down and holding tightly to his arms.

Patton frowned. “Thomas, please follow him.”

“Um, alright.” Thomas left after sharing a confused glance with Roman and Virgil.

Patton waited until he was completely out of the room before speaking again. “Sorry about that. It’s a bit of a touchy subject.” He shook his head and gave them a smile. They couldn't tell if it was fake or not. 

“Let’s move on to another crucial part, and that is hiding your weapons.” He walked over to the wall by Roman and knelt down. He pulled at a section of the baseboard to reveal a compartment. It slid out like part of a drawer. Inside were various random objects ranging from belts to flowers. “You can’t exactly carry around weapons like that, so you have to have some way of keeping them out of sight. 

"Neither of those has their own ways of doing it, so we’re going to have to choose an artificial way. It’s kind of like summoning it, actually.” He began digging through the various objects. “Whenever you’ll need it, you’ll have to call on it. How you do that will depend on what you get here.”

“Sounds magical,” Roman deadpanned. He looked down at the katana in his hands. The sheath had an intricate woven design. “Why are we doing this, anyway? I mean I’m all for swords and everything, but why now?”

Patton paused to look up at them. “It’s a lot easier to get rid of Figments this way. So if anything like last night happens again, you’ll be able to get out of it quicker.”

Virgil ignored Roman’s questioning gaze. “Uh, about last night, by the way. The Figment I saw didn’t look very modern. All the other ones I’ve seen looked like they were just ordinary people out on the street. This one looked like it wasn’t even in the right time period.”

“Sometimes that happens.” He went back to rooting through the drawer. “Altair has been doing this for a long while.”

“But why look like the last century? Wouldn't it be easier to blend in if they look modern?”

Patton stood up holding two woven bracelets. “Well think about it this way: if someone is killed at a certain time, do you think their ghost will change looks?” He gave a sad smile. “Can’t exactly change your style if you’ve never lived to see anything else.”

That was a bit depressing. And a harsh reminder. All Figments were alive at some point in time. A living, breathing person with dreams and ambitions. Everything that made them, well,  _ them _ had been stripped out of their being. The one thing left was their outer shell -- their face without the personality.

“Anyway,” Patton walked up to Roman, “let me see that for a second.” He held out his hand for the katana, which Roman handed over without complaint. He took one of the matching bracelets and tied it around the hilt. “Hold out your hand.” Once Roman did so, he tied the other around his wrist. “Okay so as long as both you and the sword have these on then this should work.”

Roman stared at him. “What should work?”

Patton smiled. “Move it up toward your palm.”

Roman gave him a weird look before doing as instructed. He pushed it up so that it encircled his palm. As soon as he moved his thumb around it, the katana disappeared from Patton’s hand and into Roman’s. He yelped and almost dropped it. “What the fuck?!”

“Language,” Patton scolded, but his amusement was clear. “Now move it back to your wrist.”

Roman did so. The katana vanished from his hand and returned to Patton’s. “Okay, but what the fuck?” He gaped at the bracelet around his wrist. “How?”

“Magic,” Virgil teased.

“He’s not wrong.” Patton grinned. “As long as you have that, then that’s how long you’ll have this.” He held up the katana for emphasis. “It’ll return to the place you left it last so be sure not to leave it lying around.” He put it back up on the wall where it belonged.

Roman fidgeted with the bracelet. “I feel like I’ve been thrown into a fantasy novel.”

“You’re a few chapters behind on that revelation, pal,” Virgil quipped.

“Yours is going to be a little bit more difficult, Virgil,” Patton muttered. “Not many of these things were made for dual weapons.” He studied the daggers. “I’ll keep looking.” He went back to the drawer.

Virgil watched as Roman continued to mess with his bracelet; moving it up and down to have his katana appear and reappear in his hand. As Patton said, it returned to the last place it was left, which in this case was the wall. It made Virgil nervous to see a dangerous object move around so much. He put a hand on Roman’s wrist to keep him from playing with it.

Roman pouted and pulled his wrist away.

“Hey, Virgil,” Patton called. “By any chance have you read Percy Jackson?”

Virgil furrowed his brows. “Um, not recently. Why?” He kind of felt nervous about getting asked this.

Patton turned around with a sly grin and held up two pens. “Because we’re going to make you your own Riptide.”

He explained that it would take some time to get them to work. Without Logan to help, enchanting them to do what they were meant to would be difficult. It would be the same basic concept as Roman’s bracelet, but it had to be “programmed” to respond to the daggers.

It was a lot of magic mumbo jumbo that Virgil tried to understand but decided he shouldn’t think so hard about. It was magic. That’s all he needed to know. Magic would always be the simple answer to half of these weird occurrences.

The three walked back up to the second floor. They saw Thomas and Logan sitting at the breakfast bar. Logan had a soft smile while Thomas snickered quietly like he had been told a secret. Whatever happened earlier must have passed. They both seemed content.

“You doing okay?” Patton asked.

“Yep,” Thomas answered with a bright smile. “Everything’s good.”

Logan nodded.

Before Patton could come up with a response, Thomas slid off the stool and asked, “Can you take me Greenflower? Logan doesn’t wanna drive and I kinda have a platonic friend date to catch.”

“Oh, um,” Patton’s eyes lingered on Logan for a moment or two before turning them to Thomas. “Yeah, sure, just let me put these down.” He left down the hall.

Thomas waited until he was out of sight to turn to Logan and whisper something to him. It made him snort and clamp a hand over his mouth. “Thomas,” his voice tried to come out stern, but he sounded too amused. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny.”

“It made you laugh.” Thomas grinned. “That means it’s hilarious.”

Patton and Thomas left shortly after. Which meant that Roman, Virgil, and Logan would be alone for a bit. Roman decided to watch Netflix and offered the other two to join. Virgil agreed as long as he got to pick something that wouldn’t be  _ Parks and Rec _ again. That had been re-watched far too many times since the move-in. Logan declined, though he stayed at the breakfast bar.

Virgil tried to scroll through Netflix in peace, but anytime he chose something, Roman had to make some snide remark about it. They couldn’t come to an agreement. So in the end, Virgil decided to ignore anything Roman said and put on  _ Merlin. _ It was a good show and one Virgil had been meaning to watch again. The first time he ever watched it was after the series had ended a little over six years ago. Yeah, that warranted a re-watch.

To Virgil’s surprise, Roman had never seen it before. Which was weird. A show about sorcerers, knights, and royalty? That seemed right up his alley. One would think that a guy so focused on fantasy would have watched this classic at least once. He seemed like he would be up for anything in the fantasy genre in general.

Virgil might have been correct on his assumptions, because before the end of the first episode, Roman was already hooked. He couldn’t get over how non-heterosexual Merlin and Arthur’s fight scene was. And Virgil had to admit that scene was a lot gayer than he remembered. Like a lot gayer. There wasn’t one heterosexual line during their whole exchange. How that managed to slip by him during his first watch, he had no idea.

As the second episode started, Virgil happened to tilt his head back as he stretched. He spotted Logan trying to subtly watch the show. “You know if you wanna join us you can.” He smirked and turned so that his arm was thrown over the back of the sofa. “We're not gonna stop you.”

The corner of Logan's mouth twitched down. Perhaps he didn't like getting caught. “As lovely as that sounds, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline.” He snapped his notebook shut. “There are more important things I should be doing.” He tucked it under his arm and stood up from the stool. “And I'm not sure if I want to keep hearing you discuss a nonexistent romantic relationship between two fictional characters.”

“They're in love,” Roman insisted. “They just don't know it yet.”

Logan scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Suit yourself, man.” Virgil shrugged and returned to his position. “You'll miss out on all the subtext.”

“I think I can live with that.”

He probably could. But part of the fun was hearing Roman point out every possible double meaning. It entertained Virgil, that's for sure. Getting through all five seasons would be great as Merlin and Arthur's relationship grew stronger. He couldn't wait for it to break Roman's heart.

There were only a few seconds of TV sounds before Virgil heard Logan gasp. A sharp, deep sound that often came hand-in-hand with pain. Then a fluttering of pages as the notebook fell to the floor.

“Logan?” Virgil turned to look at him. He shot up in an instant. “Logan?!” He ran around to the other side of the sofa.

Logan hunched over himself, holding his left arm to his chest, but that couldn't hide anything. His forearm -- and even his hand -- began to shift in color. A rapid movement of inky blackness just beneath his skin. It rolled around like harsh waves of an unforgiving sea. Then, in a fraction of a second, a glitch. A sharp flash of something that couldn't be. Something that shouldn't be. Sections of Logan's arm turned into a dark, smoky cloud. But put itself back together just as fast. All the ink moved in one swift slide to Logan's wrist, forming a black band. And it was gone. Faded back underneath his skin with no sign of it having been there at all.

Logan straightened out and rubbed his wrist. He didn't look all that shaken up. Unnerved, yes, but also a little annoyed. Like this had happened before.

“What the fuck,” Virgil muttered. “Are you alright? What the hell just happened to you?”

“I'm fine.” He stretched out his fingers and moved every one. Virgil noticed how his whole hand trembled. “Just a minor inconvenience.”

“Minor?” Both Roman and Virgil exclaimed. “That was a whole ordeal,” Roman added.

“It wasn't anything.” Logan picked up his notebook. “I'm fine. I haven't keeled over. Everything is okay.” He stared at the cover. “Don't tell Patton.”

Virgil almost imploded. “Logan, what the fuck?” He put his hands in his hair. “What do you mean don't tell Patton? This seems like something he should know -- has this happened before? Have you not told him?”

Logan glared at Virgil. “It isn't consistent. As far as Patton knows this only happened once.”

“And how many times has it actually happened?”

This made Logan lose his glare. He went back to staring at the front cover of his notebook with a somewhat guilty expression. “This is the third time.”

Virgil was going to have a heart attack.

“Logan, this seems serious,” Roman took over. “You shouldn't keep something like this from him. Whatever is happening to you, he deserves to know.”

“I can't.” Logan screwed his eyes shut. “I just --” He sighed. “Not right now. It isn't an issue. He'll know whenever he needs to.”

“You mean when you can't hide it anymore,” Virgil snapped.

Logan sent him another glare, though this one didn't have much edge. A sign Virgil was right. He sighed again and put his free hand to his forehead. “I'm going to lie down. Please do not tell Patton any of this happened. I don't want him to freak out over it.”

Virgil threw his hands up. “Fine. Whatever.” His funeral.

“I think this is a bad idea,” Roman frowned, “but I won't go against your wishes.”

“Thank you,” Logan murmured. He walked down the hall to his room.

Roman and Virgil stayed in silence. Somewhere along the line, the show had been paused. A scene frozen and waited to be returned to. 

Virgil rubbed his face. “God, I need a nap.”

“Does that mean I can continue watching Merlin without you?”

“Absolutely not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to link these next few chapters into what I have planned is going to take some time. Plus, the end of the winter semester is coming up so things are going to get hectic. So I hope you can forgive the long time between uploads. Also, since this was edited late at night, please let me know if there are any mistakes or things like that that I may have missed. Thank you! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an interesting training session; Thomas, Roman, and Virgil discover an old photo in a bookshelf.

Despite their better judgment, both Roman and Virgil continued to keep their promise to Logan. It was stupid and careless, but they could never bring it up. They each tried to find a way to tell Patton with each time ending in failure. Anytime they worked up the courage, he just gave them his usual bright smile and then suddenly they couldn’t do it anymore. Maybe Logan had a point. Breaking that joy would have been cruel.

But it wasn’t fair to either of them. Patton had a right to know and Logan needed the help. Who knew what would happen the longer this went unchecked.

Then Virgil found out that Thomas had no idea, either. He didn’t even know it was going on at all until Virgil accidentally mentioned it in front of him. And boy, oh boy, did it make him feel terrible denying to explain it. It's Logan’s story to tell, he insisted, go bother him about it.

All in all, it was a rather rough few days.

Patton and Logan started to teach Roman and Virgil the basics of weapon fighting. How to hold said weapon(s) and the general way to use them. For the most part, Logan and Roman were together and Virgil and Patton were together. Rarely were all four of them in one place. Thomas would drop by either of their sessions every once in a while, but even  _his_  presence became scarce.

After two days, Patton had Virgil’s daggers enchanted. The day Patton came out holding two pens is the day Virgil became terrified of a writing utensil.

As promised, they worked very much like Percy Jackson’s Riptide. Well, the film version. But no one wanted to say it out loud. All Virgil had to do was click the pens and then they shifted into his daggers. To get them back to pens, he had to tap the end of the handles. It felt weird to be able to do it. This was something legitimately out of a fantasy novel happening in real life. Now Virgil understood what Roman meant.

He carried them in his pockets -- one on each side -- and made it his habit to have them there before leaving the house. Part of him was still cautious to have them so close to him. Weapons were meant to hurt and do damage -- why should they be anywhere near him? But there was something about them that he couldn’t quite place. Something that made him stick with them despite every other instinct telling him otherwise.

Many times Virgil found himself staring down at the pens as if they held the world’s secrets.

“Hello? Earth to Virgil?” Thomas waved a hand in front of Virgil’s face. “Come in, Virgil.”

Virgil pocketed the pens and looked up. “What?” He didn’t know how long he had been spacing out. Something about staring at magical pens made him lose track of time.

“I was gonna go watch Roman get his butt handed to him --”

“Thanks for the motivation,” Roman grumbled as he walked out the back door.

“-- and I wanted to know if you were gonna join.” He ended with a smile.

Virgil considered his options for a moment; stay inside and do nothing, or watch Logan totally school Roman the second he gets too cocky. “Yeah, alright.”

The two walked outside together.

Their relationship hadn’t mended all the way or anything, but Thomas still felt comfortable around Virgil. Neither of them liked to think about the incident, so they never brought it up again. Virgil continued to feel guilty about it, though. He could tell how much it still affected Thomas. Imagine if someone demanded you, a child, to spill your life’s secrets. You probably wouldn’t look at that person the same way again. Virgil wouldn’t.

But they were working around that. As long as Virgil didn’t fuck up more than he already had, then maybe they could return to how they once were. He was kind of getting tired of Thomas hesitantly telling him things.

Once the two reached the training grounds, they spotted Patton standing off to the side while Logan and Roman talked. Interesting. Patton didn’t show up to watch Roman get his butt kicked as often as Virgil and Thomas did. Why would he show up now?

“Patton?” Thomas decided to speak up Virgil’s questions. “What are you doing here?”

“Well jeez, if you don’t want to see me you can just say so.” He crossed his arms and smirked. “I’m here as a first-aid kit. And also to kinda do some magic stuff.”

“First-aid kit?” Virgil questioned.

“Magic stuff?” Thomas’s excitement overshadowed Virgil’s concern.

Patton smiled at Thomas’s enthusiasm. “It’s not as exciting as it sounds. Once Logan’s done then you’ll see.”

Thomas and Virgil sat on the usual log to wait. Eventually, Logan stopped talking to Roman and turned to Patton with a soft smile. Virgil wanted to vomit at the amount of love they looked at each other with. Even in short little glances, the two always looked like they were gazing at the stars. It was sickening.

“Are you ready?” Logan asked.

Patton shrugged. “As I'll ever be.”  He patted Logan's head as he moved past him to the center of the clearing. After slight visible hesitation, he placed his knees on the ground and put his hands over the dying grass. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a rustle of leaves and grass, nearby twigs began to move. They tumbled and rolled together until they started to stack up. Twigs wove themselves around each other in a similar manner to how Patton formed a staff many days ago. Instead of braids, they formed a thicker more intricate system. Twigs, branches, and other leftover vegetation continued to add and grow until two solid forms could be made out. Two humanoid forms, that is.

“Okay.” Patton stood up from the ground with a sigh. Virgil noticed that the patch of grass that had once been dead now flourished. “It's not mimicry or anything, but it's the best I can do.” He smiled at his two plant people. They were both of average height with no discernible features; a head, a body, two arms, and two legs.  Test dummies. “They'll respond to commands so just say ‘startup’ if you want them to activate and ‘objective complete’ when you're done.” They crumbled back to a pile of sticks. Patton chuckled nervously. “They're a little sensitive.”

“It’s perfect, Patton, thank you.” Logan gave him a swift peck on the lips.

Virgil and Thomas gagged in response.

“You two need to learn about love,” Roman sighed at them.

Shortly after, the training session had begun. This would be the first time Roman used his katana against something. Before, he had been learning with a wooden sword (and then getting his ass handed to him by a more skilled Logan) so this might have been considered a step up. In addition to that, this would be his first time sword fighting against someone that wasn’t Logan. Or, in this case, some _ thing. _

One of the dummies created its own sword. It extended out more like an extension of its arm rather than an object it would hold in its hand. Its movements were slow enough for Roman to block and follow. If it got hit, it would crumple for a few seconds then regain its form. Level one, basically.

“Roman, are you scared of it?” Logan asked with a slight smirk. He had been walking around to examine how Roman did.

“W-what? No.” Roman laughed a bit to play it off. “I would never.” Despite his words, his actions were timid. He had a clear shot and gently took it, the sword sticking into the wood a little bit. The dummy fell into a pile of sticks.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Roman,” Patton said from beside Thomas on the log. “It’ll only go as hard as you do.”

Roman pouted. “I’m not afraid --” He squealed when the pile sprung to life and fell back on his butt.

“That’s believable,” Virgil scoffed.

“Why don't you show him how to do it, Logan?” Thomas suggested with a smile. “You're really good at this stuff.”

“Yeah, show him up.” Virgil smirked at Roman's glare.

Logan hesitated. “I don't know. I'm not really --”

“You can do it, Lo.” Patton beamed. “You set your own difficulty.”

With a sigh, Logan relented. He brought out the pommel which the rest of the sword appeared out of.

Roman pushed his bracelet down and his katana disappeared from his hand. He sent Virgil an annoyed scowl before sitting down in the grass. Virgil flicked the back of his head in retaliation. If he didn’t want to get hit, he shouldn’t have sat so close.

After taking a deep breath, Logan swung his sword. Right off the bat, the dummy blocked it. It matched Logan’s speed and skill almost instantly. Every parry, every swing had a reaction from both parties. Unlike Roman, Logan knew what he was doing. He could handle woven sticks. And he could handle them a lot better than Roman. As if to add insult to injury, once the opportunity arose, Logan sliced clean through the dummy’s torso -- splitting it in half. Whereas Roman only dared to poke it a little bit.

It fell into a pile and Logan twisted the pommel to retract his sword. Thomas cheered to celebrate the victory, making Virgil smile a bit.

“You went easy on it,” Patton commented, almost as if he were suspicious of something.

Logan rubbed his wrist. “Yes, well, I didn’t want to further damage Roman’s pride.” He gave a small smile that immediately felt off to Virgil.

Patton frowned as he eyed Logan’s wrist. Virgil had to physically restrain himself from saying anything. In fact, he ended up squeezing Roman’s shoulder with how badly he wanted to speak up. Why did he insist on keeping his promise to Logan?

Regardless, the session continued as normal. Logan made sure that Roman put a little more effort into his fighting and further emphasized that there was nothing to worry about. The dummy wouldn’t kill him or anything. His sword wasn’t anything to fear, either. He had control over it. It couldn’t do anything that he didn’t want it to.

Things went a lot better after that.

Unlike Logan, Roman ended up with a few injuries by the end of it. Minor cuts from where the dummy managed to hit him. No big deal. They were easily fixed by Patton, anyway.

“You did so well, Roman,” Patton cheered and Thomas agreed.

“Yeah, you didn’t get totally creamed today,” Virgil added with his usual sarcasm lacing every word.

“I always appreciate your input, Virgil,” Roman muttered.

Virgil responded with a silent thumbs up.

“For your first try, it wasn’t a complete failure.” Logan had similar styles of wording as Virgil did; if he meant something positive he usually didn’t make it sound that way. “You still have a lot to work on, but nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Roman gasped and put a hand to his chest. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

The rest of the day went by without much incident. Though, perhaps Virgil missed a good portion of the day due to a four-hour nap. In his defense, no loud noises woke him up. He depended on those so as to not oversleep. Most of the time they were yells from Roman and Thomas because some form of “betrayal” took place. Other times they were Logan and Roman getting into an argument. A few times Roman barged in and demanded something. Alright, so most of them were Roman. The dude was dramatic.

Once Virgil stepped out of his room, however, he got dragged into the beginning of an argument. Not one he wanted to take part in, but one he had to be involved with since Logan and Patton weren’t going to deal with it.

Thomas insisted that creatures like dragons and unicorns had gone extinct centuries ago. Roman, being the stubborn fantasy nerd that he is, refused to acknowledge the possibility of that ever happening. Why he wouldn’t take the word of someone who grew up with magic since the day he was born was beyond Virgil. Denial, possibly. Maybe he couldn’t handle learning that magic is real only to find out he’d never get to see some of the most cliche magical creatures.

Virgil didn’t care. Logan and Patton acted like they didn’t know the argument was even going on at all. They were trying to torture him, weren’t they? Ugh, if he knew they were going to be petty he would have second-guessed ever getting mad at Thomas.

Eventually, Thomas had enough of the bullshit and dragged both Virgil and Roman downstairs. The whole way down, the three continued to speak over one another. With Thomas and Roman arguing their main points and Virgil trying to get them to see reason (and maybe shut up).

The room Thomas led them into wasn’t bare like the weapons’ room. This one had bookcases along the walls. Posters and maps rolled up in a safe place or displayed on available walls. There was a desk in between two small bookcases with several scraps of papers and a notebook resting on it. An office space -- or even a research room.

Virgil decided to ignore the two in favor of looking around. There were a few pictures hanging up. Some black and white polaroids with a tiny grinning Thomas, a frame with washed out colors of Thomas and a girl, and then one that made Virgil stop. A grainy-looking photo in an old frame. Black and white like many of the others, but this one appeared much older. It depicted three people standing in front of a background of flowers. The one in the middle took Virgil a minute to recognize. Picani. He looked to be around Thomas’s physical age but still just as tall. He seemed happy. A man and a woman stood on either side of him. The woman had long hair that must have been falling out of its updo with the way she was handling it. The man seemed as if he was in the middle of holding back a laugh. All three of them kind of looked like that, actually.

Wait a minute… Virgil recognized that facial expression. It’s something he had seen many times since first moving into this house. Something that happened whenever Roman tried to start a fight or Virgil made a snarky remark he probably shouldn’t have. Whenever Logan gave a sardonic retort that Patton didn’t approve of. Because that was a face Thomas made for all of those. When he wanted to laugh but shouldn’t.

Were these Thomas’s parents?

“Here it is. Roman, stop moving your mouth, I’m about to prove you wrong.” Thomas reached up to the top of one of the bookcases. He had just enough height to grab a specific book. As he brought it down, something ended up fluttering to the floor. “I -- what is this?”

Virgil spared one last glance at the picture before walking over to the other two. Maybe he should hold onto that observation for another time.

Thomas picked up the object to reveal it as a polaroid -- like the ones on the wall. Instead of a young Thomas, this one had two people. One of them was Picani, once again looking to be around Thomas’s physical age. In this one, he seemed more shy, giving an almost bashful smile. Perhaps it had to do with the more eccentric person next to him. A teenage boy with aviator sunglasses and a wide grin.

“Who’s that?” Roman asked, pointing to the unknown boy.

“I…” Thomas furrowed his brows. “I don’t know.”

Virgil noted how close the two in the picture were sitting. It almost looked like they weren't expecting to get photographed. Picani had a book in his lap, his round frames sliding down his nose. The other boy had his legs crossed and an arm slung over the bench behind Picani's shoulders.

“We could ask Patton and Logan,” Roman suggested.

“I just -- why don’t I know him?” Thomas almost looked distressed at this.

“It’s fine, Thomas,” Virgil tried to sooth. “You don’t have to know.”

Thomas didn’t take his eyes off the picture. “But -- but this is the fifties. I was with him. I was almost always with him. How can there be someone I haven’t met from this time period?”

“Let’s just go up and ask Patton and Logan. They’ll tell us who he is and you can ask why you never met him.”

“I guess.” Thomas still didn’t take his eyes off the picture.

Virgil frowned. He tried to take it, but Thomas yanked his arm back and held it to his chest. Like a wild animal that had been cornered. Virgil held his hands up in defense. “Alright. Keep it.”

“It’s okay, Thomas. I’m sure there’s an easy explanation for this,” Roman said. “Maybe you were just never properly introduced -- there were times when you weren’t with Picani, right?”

“Yeah. When he’d go to school or work.”

“So that’s at least two times a day you wouldn’t have seen him. They must have met during one of those times and you just never had an opportunity to see him.”

“But I --” Thomas shook his head. “That makes sense, I guess. Let’s just go ask them.” He shoved the book back on the top shelf.

The whole way up, Thomas didn’t take his eyes off the picture. It made Roman and Virgil share a concerned glance. They didn’t know why this was such a big deal to him. It shouldn't have mattered so much. He didn’t need to know everything about Picani.

Once they got back up to the second floor, Thomas hurried down the hall to the living room. “Patton. Logan.”

There was a squeak and a thump as Patton fell off the couch. Logan sat up, face flushed. “What? Nothing was happening.”

“I’m gonna pretend I believe you for a second because I have a question to ask about this photo.” He pointed at it.

Patton’s head peeked up over the coffee table. “What photo?”

Thomas turned it around.

Immediately, both Patton and Logan tensed up. They stared at it with wide eyes -- as if they never expected to see it again. Patton stood up and gently took it from Thomas’s hand. Logan came around to look at it as well. They didn’t say anything as they studied it. A piece of their history captured in one tiny square.

“Where did you find this?” Patton asked softly.

“It was in one of the bookshelves.” Thomas shared a glimpse of uncertainty with Roman and Virgil. “Who is he?”

“No one.”

“A friend.”

Patton and Logan stopped to give each other a look. For the first time ever, they didn’t say the same thing when they spoke at the same time. It caused uneasiness to settle about the room. “We can’t just ignore that he ever existed,” Patton continued.

“It’s not like we haven’t tried,” Logan muttered, bitter.

Patton frowned. “That doesn’t make it okay to. It isn’t fair. Not for us -- and definitely not for him.”

“What happened to him?” Thomas interrupted tentatively.

“He was human.” Logan snatched the photo from Patton’s hands. Virgil felt his heart drop. “I’m going to put this somewhere safe. We’ll discuss this later, Patton.” He gave Patton one final look before walking away.

Patton watched him go with an indescribable emotion on his features.

“Patton,” Thomas said and wiped a stray tear that left his eye. It made Virgil aware of his own tears streaming down his face.

“Oh!” Patton snapped out of his daze. “Sorry. I’m not used to controlling that anymore.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Virgil felt the tightness in his chest ease up. He could breathe again.

“Why does that happen?” Roman asked as he rubbed the last of the tears out of his eyes.

“I guess you can call me an empath.” Patton shrugged. “I can know what others feel, but more often than not I end up sending out my own emotions. Whether or not that’s apart of my healing abilities is up for debate.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m not really aware of it half the time. And Picani doesn’t have that ability so I’m kind of getting used to having them again.”

Virgil wiped his face. “Maybe don’t send out such harsh vibes next time.”

Patton gave a half smile. “It’s not always that simple. I can keep all my normal emotions in check, but I kind of lose control over the big ones. If I get too worked up over something then I project those feelings without meaning to. Usually, they’re low enough to not be detected, but you two are humans. There’s no magic protecting you.”

“Ugh, you’re like Blue Diamond.” Roman ran his hands down his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever cried so many tears in such a short amount of time.”

“Sorry. I’ll work on that.”

Thomas frowned a bit. “If he was so important to you -- important enough to cause this --” he motioned to Roman and Virgil, whose eyes were still glossy with tears -- “why don’t I know anything about him?”

Patton paused -- as if he needed to process the words -- before letting out a sad smile. “You never wanted to.”

Thomas froze, surprise and disbelief all over his features. “What?” The word came out so quiet -- like a silent breath rolling over his lips.

Though Patton didn’t acknowledge this.  His gaze was trained out toward the hall. “I should probably talk to Logan before he starts going over the ‘what ifs’ in his head again.” He silently excused himself.

No one decided to ask any further questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen. I know you guys don't know Logan and Patton's backstory yet, but anytime I hear Perfect by Ed Sheeran I immediately think of them in this AU and I get emotional


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three idiots with one brain cell shared between them get a chapter to themselves. Oh, and some new friends are introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the subject of the previous author's note, Love Story by Taylor Swift is also a pretty good contender for the logicality anthem of this AU

Thomas tried to find that damn picture again the next day, but he couldn’t. He checked every shelf and cupboard in the house, many books, and even places Picani thought were secret (but weren’t since Thomas found them early on). Logan hid it well. He knew Thomas would go looking for it -- that paranoid bastard.

Thomas huffed in annoyance and fell back on his haunches. He let the cupboard door fall closed. All he wanted was to know who that boy was -- a name at least. But neither Patton nor Logan wanted to talk about it. He almost convinced Patton to let something slip, but Logan walked back in and ceased the conversation. For some reason, Logan was adamant about not telling Thomas anything. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t around at that time. He and Picani were almost attached at the hip until the seventies

Up until Thomas screwed things up.

Oof -- besides the point, and thus no reason to think about it. The point is, it didn’t make any sense on how Thomas never met Mr. Sunglasses. He was with Picani at every moment of his free time -- sometimes even when he didn’t have free time. He was a kid, and easily frightened at his own shadow, so often times Picani brought him along to the library when he needed to study. On a few occasions, he even brought him to a lecture if the professor was nice enough. Thomas never did anything during those times. Just stayed silent and drew on some paper Picani had given him.

Once, on no day in particular, Picani stopped going to classes. He stopped going to school. Even now Thomas doesn’t know why, but he always had his suspicions. Because before that day happened, he found Picani crying by himself in the middle of the night. He was looking at old pictures until Thomas came in. Then they stayed together until the morning with Picani never mentioning the incident again.

Thomas shook himself out of his memories and leapt to his feet. The scrapbook. It had to still exist -- no way would Picani throw out something like that. There was a chance it could reveal the missing puzzle piece that Thomas needed.

Without any further hesitation, Thomas took the stairs two at a time to get to the first floor faster.  He flung himself into the room he needed to be in and began his search. For the most part, the books were organized by type. In true Picani fashion, however, many parts of the order only made sense to him. So Thomas had to search thoroughly in order not to skip over it on accident.

It felt like an eternity before he found it. Not on a shelf -- or even a bookcase -- but under one. There was a gap between one of the bookcases and the floor that he never would have paid attention to had he not kicked under it on pure accident. It was big enough for the book to slide out of. It must have been under there for a long while; a heavy layer of dust settled over the cover.

He opened it after, finding that his anticipation couldn’t hold off any longer. Inside was like any other scrapbook. Pictures, messages, little doodles. The notes were signed 'R' and 'E', depending on who was writing. They were almost like text messages with some being about where to meet up and when, but others being inside jokes or complaints about a professor. There were many pictures of Picani and R. A majority of them were of the latter, however. Thomas had a feeling that Picani did this on purpose. The ones where they were together were the goofiest. It felt like looking through frozen snippets of time between two close friends.

Then there was a jump. A skip of time that occurred with a simple flick of a page. R looked somewhat older while Picani looked more or less the same. But during these pictures, R ditched his sunglasses. He stood up straighter, smiled rather than grinned or smirked. Something changed him. As the pictures moved from black and white to color, they became less frequent before stopping all together. The notes were gone. There weren’t anymore doodles of two teenage boys messing around. Thomas turned a blank page and found a letter. He noticed the remaining pages had been altered into pockets to hold other letters as well. They were all still in their envelopes.

Part of Thomas wanted to read them -- to spill all the secrets they had in store -- but the other part new that he shouldn’t. He was already invading enough of Picani’s privacy. He didn't need to fall deeper into that. Instead, he opted to look at the envelopes. They had a red and blue lined border. Judging from the stamps and overall condition of the paper, these weren’t recent at all. He struggled to read the smushed loopy writing. He managed to read Emile Picani and their apartment number at the time. The address for the sender looked like random letters and numbers strung together.

He flipped through the pages, all with the same information. Emile Picani, apartment number, and random scribbles. He did, however, make out an 'R' and what might have been a 'y' on the name for the sender on one of them. The last envelope caught Thomas off guard. It had wrinkles in it. Like someone crushed it in their hand before deciding to smooth it out. Was whatever inside it upsetting?

Thomas stared at it before succumbing to curiosity and slipping it out of the pocket. He held it in his hands, noticing how the ink smudged from water droplets, then flipped it over. Someone ripped it open. It wasn’t how Picani normally opened envelopes. He was always so careful. The way this was opened looked like someone rushed to get inside. Thomas lifted up the remains of the flap to see the letter still folded inside. His fingertips brushed the paper before he yanked it back.

What the hell was he doing?

Whatever was in this letter wasn’t any of his business. He shouldn’t have even considered looking through it. This was a private affair. Letters were personal and this one -- no matter how intriguing -- wasn’t meant for him to read. His name wasn’t anywhere on it. This was only ever meant for Picani to read.

Sighing, Thomas returned the letter to its pocket. He felt icky for even considering reading that. If Picani wanted him to read it, then he would have let him see it years ago. So despite the curiosity that ached inside him, he let it go. He put the book back where he found it and stood up to leave. In hindsight, this whole endeavour seemed a bit silly. He shouldn’t have let himself get so focused on such a tiny detail of the past. Focusing on the past never led to good things in his experience.

As he approached the door, voices from the other side made him stop. Patton and Logan. They were having a hushed argument. Thomas peeked out a bit to see Patton close a door on a room. A room that Thomas affectionately dubbed the “seance room”. Though no actual seances ever took place there, it did have many witchy aspects to it.

“We’re not getting any closer, Patton.” Logan rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses.

Patton sighed. “I know. But there’s only so much we can do when we have nothing to go off of.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment. “Patton, I think it’s time to start talking about if we don’t find him.” He hesitated. “So if it ever gets to that point, I --”

“No.”

“Patton --”

“I don’t want to hear you talking like that.” He cupped Logan’s face. “I -- I won’t let you talk like that. You just have to believe that everything is going to be okay. We still have time -- _you_ still have time. Just, please, don’t talk like you -- like you’re --” He couldn’t seem to finish his sentence.

Logan put a hand around Patton's wrist. “We can't afford to be blindly optimistic. There is a chance that I'll --”

“Stop. Please -- just --” Patton squeezed his eyes shut -- “I don't know what I'd do without you. I can't lose anymore people I care about. Not you. I almost lost you before, Logan, I can't go through that again.”

Logan opened his mouth as if to say something, but ended up closing it. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Patton. “I understand how you feel, but I just want you to be prepared for all possible scenarios.”

Patton held Logan as if that was the only thing keeping him there. “I don’t want any other scenario. I want you to be safe.”

Thomas ducked behind the door to avoid being seen. He tried to convince himself that the tears pricking at his eyes were because of Patton.

* * *

Virgil groaned as loud noises invaded his room. He rolled over and pulled his blankets closer as if that would lessen them somehow. When it didn’t, he peeked one eye open, only to groan again. His hand searched the nightstand. Once his fingers bumped into a rubber cover, he tilted it towards himself and pressed the home button. He groaned yet again. “It’s ten o’clock, what are you guys doing?” He tried to get cozy to avoid leaving any time soon.

“It’s time to wake up,” Thomas announced. “We have places to be.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Virgil yelped when the blankets were ripped from him. He sat up to glare at the perpetrator. “Roman!”

“Up and at ‘em.” Roman grinned. “You’re wasting away precious morning hours by staying in here doing nothing.”

“I was sleeping.” He snatched the blankets back from Roman’s hand, but made no attempt to get back under them. “I’d prefer to get back to it as I have work tonight.”

Thomas jumped onto the bed, narrowly missing Virgil’s leg. “Come on, Virge. We have to do this now before Patton and Logan get back. I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

Virgil stared at Thomas for a moment. He seemed a bit off. Despite this, Virgil ended up agreeing. “I expect my payment to be in food.”

After Virgil threw on whatever clothes were close enough to him, they were on their way (after slight criticism from Roman on outfit choice). Thomas gave directions from the backseat, but wasn’t explicit about where they were going. An unfortunate trait he learned from Picani, no doubt. But he did explain the reason they were doing this:

Patton and Logan need more help than they’re letting on. With no clues to where Altair is, and a race against time, they need all hands on deck. More eyes to lookout. Other similes of that nature. And there was only two other people Thomas knew who would be willing to help.

“Neither of you are allergic to dogs, right?” Thomas asked after his hand fell from the door. The three stood around on the front steps of a house. A quiet neighborhood surrounded them. Perhaps the morning weekday had a part to play in that.

“Isn’t that something you normally ask _before_ going to see someone?” Roman put his hands on his hips.

“We're on a bit of a time constraint here.”

“And if you are, you can just wait outside,” Virgil shot back.

Roman glared at him.

Before Thomas could interject to tell them to knock it off, the front door opened. Roman and Virgil dropped their annoyance with each other for the benefit of the person on the other side. They’d pick it back up again after pleasantries were exchanged.

“Hey, Joan,” Thomas chirped, wide smile in place.

The other seemed ready to return the greeting, but stopped upon seeing that there were others. “Who’s this?”

“Right, um --” He turned to his partners in crime -- “Joan, this is Roman and Virgil. Roman and Virgil, this is Joan. They’re kinda like my best friend.”

“Kinda like your best friend? I’m insulted that the title is so uncertain.” Joan smirked at him. “Well, come on in. I assume you have something important to tell me.”

Thomas gave Roman and Virgil a large grin before following Joan inside. Roman and Virgil shared one final glare before joining. They followed the eccentric Thomas into a quaint little living room. Laying on top of a sofa cushion was a little dog. Curly black and white fur adorned its precious form. Roman squealed and ran over to it, cooing excitedly.

“Where’s Talyn?” Thomas glanced around the living room as if the person in question would appear out of thin air.

Joan wandered in after locking up the front door. “They’re washing Sephone right now. Does this conversation need the both of us?” They paused to look at Thomas. “Did you break something again?”

“What? No! Why do you always assume I did something bad?” He seemed embarrassed more than annoyed. “Can’t I just want to talk to two of my best buds?”

“Considering you brought guests with you,” they motioned to the two in question. Virgil stood off to the side awkwardly while Roman continued to play with the dog, “I’m going to take a wild guess and say that this talk is going to be a bit of a big deal.”

“I mean, like, maybe…”

A voice shouted from down the hall, “Loose dog!” followed by thumps against the floor. The sure sign of an animal excitedly running away. Said excited animal was a lot faster than anyone realized and found its way into the living room before a word could even be uttered. And far before Virgil realized that this animal, moving at top dog speed, went straight for him.

This was not a small dog by any means, and Virgil was not exactly tough, so they both found their way to the ground after the dog jumped on him. He spit out dog fur that got in his mouth and attempted to push the dog away from him, but it seemed pretty set on licking his face. Connected to the tongue was a rather energetic fluffy dog. Brown, black, and white coated its face in splotches. Or rather, _faces._ This thing had three heads.

Virgil squeaked but found himself still trapped under the dog and unable to get away.

“Woah,” Roman gasped. The tinier, less intimidating dog, found its way into his lap. “Thomas, you didn’t say your friends had Cerberus. I thought this cute dog was all that you meant!”

Thomas chuckled nervously. “Uh, yeah. I-it kinda slipped my mind.”

“Cerberus is just a breed type, by the way,” a new voice mentioned. The person it belonged to emerged from the direction the dog came. They had a rather bold statement of hair that contradicted their overall soft appearance. “Her name is Sephone and she enjoys giving kisses to strangers.”

“Well, I do _not_ enjoy receiving them.” Virgil tried to push the middle head away, but the left head came in and continued the kisses. He wasn’t much of a dog person; they could be intimidating. So having a dog with _three heads_ on top of him was the closest thing to a nightmare that could have decided to happen today.

“I’ll take them!” Roman exclaimed very much like a child on Christmas.

“If you whistle then she won’t even hesitate to go for you,” Joan said.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Roman whistled for Sephone. All her heads turned toward the sound before bounding off toward it. She automatically began to lick his face in greeting. Roman responded by petting one of her heads, though his other hand remained on the other dog.

“Sorry about that, Virgil.” Thomas helped Virgil off the floor. “Next time I’ll be sure to mention any magical pets beforehand.”

“It _is_ a little funny that she went straight for you,” Joan mentioned. “Considering it wouldn’t be the first time a Virgil and a cerberus met.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s hilarious,” Virgil snapped.

“Anyway,” Thomas jumped back in. “We didn’t just come here to see your dogs -- even though that is a plus. I have some serious developments to reveal and I need to get them out as soon as possible because I don’t know when Logan and Patton are getting back home.”

So Thomas explained, in depth, how they would all benefit from Joan and Talyn’s help. With Talyn being able to get information from a broad spectrum of magical creatures, and Joan knowing which humans could be trusted, they wouldn’t have to wait around for Altair to find them. They could have a network of people keeping an eye out.

“I can try my best,” Talyn said. “But you know what everyone thinks. Once news starts to spread that Altair is actively looking for someone then they’ll all stay far away. Very few will get involved with that.”

“Humans don’t have as much to fear so I think my connections will be a lot more willing,” Joan added.

Thomas looked as if he expected as much. “Thank you -- it’s just really important that this gets done.” It looked like he wanted to add something else, but kept silent.

“Don’t worry about it, dude. We’ll do anything to help you get Picani back. You’re probably struggling without him.”

Thomas flushed red in an instant. “I’m almost a hundred years old. I know how to handle myself without Picani, thank you very much.”

Joan scoffed. “When we first met, you still clung to him like a kindergartener that doesn’t want to leave their mom.”

“That doesn’t count!”

“It was high school.”

Virgil decided to cut in before Thomas short-circuited from embarrassment. “Wait, how did both of you meet Thomas?” Both Joan and Talyn looked closer to Roman and Virgil’s age than to Thomas’s. But as Virgil knew, looks could be deceiving.

“I met him freshman year of high school,” Joan answered. “In an English class, I think. Of course, then I didn’t realize he lived with a real-life fusion and had a family of wizards, but it sort of explained a lot after I knew.” They gave Thomas a look. One Thomas seemed to understand more than Virgil.

“Does that mean you two graduated together?” Roman continued to sit on the floor with one dog asleep in his lap and the other getting belly rubs.

“Yep. It’s been about ten years now.”

Ten years? That’s when Roman and Virgil graduated as well. Would that make Joan a human then? They did reference having strictly human connections. And as tricky as Magi years were, a Magus didn’t age that fast in the span of ten years. It seemed a bit rude to ask, however.

“We met by complete accident,” Talyn replied. “I was kind of hanging out with the wrong crowd back then and Thomas has a knack for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.” They gave him a knowing smirk and he returned it with a sheepish smile. “So to make a very long story short, he found out I was a shifter and we became friends.”

“Shifter?” Roman and Virgil questioned.

“Shapeshifter. It’s what I am.”

Roman laid his hand on top of Sephone’s middle head since that’s the one she put on his leg. “So you can change into different things?”

“Just people.” Talyn shrugged. “It’s a bit of a painful process, but it _does_ make for easy hair changes.”

“That’s awesome.” He started to pet Sephone with both hands since the little dog continued to sleep regardless of attention. “Thomas, you should have introduced us sooner -- I’d love to have met these dogs. And your friends, too, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Joan muttered, though it was clear no hard feelings were had.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, “Stronger Than You” started playing. Thomas groaned and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. He stared at it for a few seconds with a grimace before answering.

“Hello --?” He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear. What sounded like Patton’s frantic voice could be heard from the other side. He hesitantly put it back. “Alright -- whoa -- hey, uh, P-Patton. Patton, please.” He angrily waved his hand at Joan when they started snickering. “I’m fine, I swear. I’m just at Joan and Talyn’s house… Virgil and Roman are with me… Well, honestly, I kinda expected you to be gone longer.” That appeared to be the wrong thing to say, as he instantly cringed and hung his head. Patton could once again be heard yelling on the other side.

“Okay, I get it.” He lifted his head back up. “I had a good reason for this, I swear. I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything… Yes… So now that you know I’m not dying, are you good…? Alright… Well, we can’t exactly leave yet. Roman seems to be a little occupied with the dogs.” They all turned to look at Roman.

Roman looked up and gave them a sheepish smile. “Is it obvious that I’ve never had a pet before?”

Thomas shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Roman and Virgil are here, there’s a cerberus, I am in a safe place. They won’t let anything happen to me.” He rolled his eyes, a familiar action of a teenager getting annoyed at their parent's questions. “Yes. Now chill out. Have fun. We’ll be back soon.” He hung up with a sigh.

“Did you get in trouble with your daddies?” Joan asked with a smirk.

Thomas held up a finger in their direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call them that. But yes.”

“Maybe we should get back,” Virgil suggested.

He turned his head to give Virgil an incredulous expression. “Uh, no. We're going to give them enough time to stop being mad at me. And _then_ we'll get back.”

“I'm not going to argue with that,” Roman said.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You just wanna keep playing with the dogs.”

“Normally, I would object, but in this case, you are very right.”

They all spent the next several minutes talking with each other. All the while Roman continued to give the dogs the majority of his attention, something which Virgil couldn’t understand, but wasn’t going to poke fun at or anything. It was sort of… pure. The way he interacted with them. He became much more gentle -- loving, almost -- in a way that Virgil had never seen before. It was, maybe, a little cute.

Not that Virgil would ever admit to thinking that in a million years. Nuh-uh. He wasn’t going to have his reputation ruined by that of all things. Besides, Roman would never let him live it down. So no. No one was going to get a hold of those thoughts. Not today -- not ever.

Eventually, they did have to leave. Roman had to be dragged away from the dogs with a promise to return one day. Joan and Talyn said they were welcomed back anytime, anyway, as long as it was for anything other than bad news. Virgil could get behind that kind of mentality.

Thomas groaned in annoyance when they reached the car. “Patton said to get lunch,” he squinted down at his phone, “at least I think. There’s a lot more spelling errors than usual.” He tilted his head to the side as if that would help to read it better. “How do you even add that many extra letters in the word ‘get’?”

“Does he have any requests?” Roman asked.

“I feel like if I asked, I’d get a response that didn’t make sense.” He frowned at his phone before putting it away. “We’ll use our best judgement. I don’t know what’s going on with him right now.”

Virgil smirked a bit. “Maybe he’s so mad he can’t even type right.”

“Shut up and get in the car.”

“Wow, who made you the boss of me?”

“I’m literally sixty-six years older than you, now get your butt in the car.”

Unfortunately, there were few fast food places that served vegetarian options, so they had to pick somewhere that involved getting out of the car. Which was unfortunate. Because both Virgil and Thomas would do anything if it meant doing the least amount of work.

After getting situated, Virgil and Thomas played Chopsticks while they waited for their order. Roman watched them with mild fascination as Thomas won every single round. No matter who went first, Thomas always managed to win.

“How?!” Virgil threw his hands up in defeat. He only regretted the volume to his voice a little bit. He was more peeved at losing so many times. “I’ve never seen someone win that consistently before.”

“Black magic,” Thomas joked with a sly grin.

Roman snorted. From around the straw of his drink, he spoke, “That would explain Virgil sucking so bad.”

Virgil glared at him.

As they walked to the back parking lot where the car was, Virgil continued to receive teasing. Roman did most of it with Thomas not helping in the least. Though Thomas did eventually concede that he learned the tricks to winning from Picani. It made Thomas a rather grumpy boy after teaching it to him and then having him win a few times after figuring it out. So he knew how Virgil felt (yet he declined to release the secrets).

Well, whatever then. Virgil didn’t want to know them anyway.

Suddenly, a bad feeling crawled down Virgil’s spine. An innate instinct told him to reach into his pocket with his free hand. By the time he clicked the pen and turned around, someone yanked Thomas back by the arm.

The Figment had the appearance of a young girl with a 90s grunge aesthetic. There was a high chance that it was the authentic style rather than someone going retro. It held Thomas’s arms to keep him from escaping and stared down both Roman and Virgil as if daring them to do something. But like all Figments, its expression didn’t give very much away.

_“Throw the dagger at it!”_

With a jump, Virgil shoved the food into Roman’s arms. “Thomas, duck!” He raised his arm and launched the dagger from his hand. Honestly, he couldn’t say what possessed him to do it. Patton taught him how to throw it once and he never did it again, so that wouldn’t have been his first course of action.

As soon as Thomas was out of the way, the dagger hit the Figment square in the shoulder. Somehow, Virgil got it to stick.

This allowed Thomas to rush over and hide behind Roman.

The Figment stared in what might have been considered shock. Black ink began to seep onto its shirt from the wound. Then, like the ones before it, it went up in smoke.

Virgil glanced around.

“Dude, those things can _not_ take a hit,” Roman muttered after a moment of shocked silence.

“Well, you’d have to imagine that it takes a lot to reanimate a soul with a body. As strong as Altair is, I don’t think he’s capable of forming a fully-fleshed person out of their soul and magic alone.” Thomas stared wearily at where it used to be. “On another note, Virgil how the hell did you think to do that?”

“Yeah, I have to admit that was one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen you do.”

Virgil stopped searching the area to look at them in confusion. “I… I just -- I thought I heard --” He shook his head. They wouldn’t have believed him. “Never mind. It was some weird instinct, I guess.” He picked up his dagger, frowning at the ink splattering the blade.

“Whatever you say.” Roman pushed the food back into Virgil’s arms. “Just don’t use me as your personal lackey next time.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Sure.” He placed the pen back into his pocket. And, being the paranoid individual that he is, couldn’t help but look around one last time. He could have sworn Logan was the one to yell at him.

Thomas opened the door to the house with a dramatic flair to rival Roman’s “Patton! Logan! We have returned in one piece! Come out here so I can tell you stuff.”

Roman and Virgil went to set the food down in the kitchen.

They waited for a moment until Logan emerged from down the hall. His hair appeared more wild than usual and his cheeks were flushed. “Yes? What is it?”

Virgil raised a brow as he sat at the breakfast bar. “Isn't that Patton's shirt?”

Logan paused and looked down. “It appears so.” He adjusted his glasses. “Interesting.”

At that moment, Patton came out holding Logan’s shirt with his finger. He leaned against the doorway with a smirk. “I think you forgot something.”

Roman started slurping on his drink and shared a look with Virgil, who pursed his lips to restrain himself from making any comments. Thomas looked like he wanted to die.

“Patton,” Logan stressed. He tried to act like he couldn’t see him. “Put on a shirt.” The tips of his ears turned pink.

With a sly grin, Patton said, “That's not what you were saying earlier.”

Roman spit out his soda into the sink while Virgil slapped a hand over his mouth as he started to laugh.

“Ah! No!” Thomas covered his ears. “Why would you say that near me? I can’t just unhear that. Oh my God. No. _No._ St -- oh my God.” He turned to walk out to the deck, ranting the whole way.

“He’s definitely not going to let that go,” Logan grumbled.

“You're just lucky he didn't see your hickey,” Roman muttered like a side remark.

Logan’s eyes widened. His hand flew to cover his neck as if he knew where it would be already. _“Patton.”_ He glared at him, but it was obvious he was more embarrassed than anything.

Patton shrugged in response, clearly amused rather than ashamed. “He told us to have fun.”

“You are the worst.” Logan hit Patton’s arm which made him start laughing. “Shut up, I’m mad at you.” He started to push him down the hall, continuing to complain while Patton laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a deleted scene from this chapter that I put up on my Tumblr if you'd like to see it (it's the second one, not the first one). It gives a little more insight into Thomas and Picani's relationship as well as gives a bigger hint to what may have happened to Remy


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things get a little more complicated before they get any better. Virgil is still waiting for the complicated parts to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, always have your characters' backstories developed before you start posting chapters. That way you don't have to retcon things later.
> 
> **TW: body horror**

Virgil stared at the pile of sticks on the ground for a while. Part of him wanted to go back inside and grab someone, but the other part convinced him that wasn’t necessary. It would be a short test. If it came out negative, then he was just a crazy person. If it came out positive, then oh well. Maybe he’d end up with a few scratches at most. Honestly, he didn’t know what he preferred out of those two options.

“Start up.”

He took a few steps back as the pile sprung to life. The two dummies took form and stood there, waiting for Virgil to do something. Well, now or never. He clicked his pens. As soon as he lifted his arm, the dummy he aimed for blocked his movement. Then, almost like a whisper in the back of his mind, something told him to use his other hand. So Virgil listened to it. He swung his dagger into the side of the dummy and it stuck with surprising ease. It took a moment -- as if it needed to register what happened -- before falling back into a pile.

Alright. That didn’t prove much either way, but alright. The pile climbed its way back to life. Round two.

Virgil went after it again, and again, following the hints that the universe seemed to whisper to him. Anytime he followed them, it ended in his favor. Anytime he didn’t, he lost. Wherever it was coming from, it knew what it was doing. It saw every weak point and every opportunity. Still, that didn’t give him exact proof. He needed to hear words. Not intuitive hints or suggestions.

On complete accident, he brushed against the stationary dummy. Taking this as a challenge, it raised its sword. Oh boy. Patton  _ did _ say they were sensitive.

_ “Step to the side.” _

Roman’s voice was not something Virgil expected to hear. He almost jumped right out of his skin. Instead, he ended up tripping over his own feet. Because of course he did. He dropped his daggers to catch his fall, and it was like someone ripped off his headphones. Sounds that were previously muffled without his knowledge came back full force. The wind, and the birds, and the rustling of leaves. He didn’t know how he couldn’t notice them missing.

But that wasn’t his main concern. He fell on his back. Hard -- even with the aid of his arms. And suddenly he had two wooden sticks pointed at his throat. That by itself wouldn’t have been intimidating, except that those sticks weaved into the rest of the dummies’ swords.

“Objective complete,” Virgil groaned out. He let his arms drop as the dummies disassembled.

Part of him expected Roman to walk into his line of sight to make fun of him, but he didn’t show up. A swift glance around the perimeter proved that he wasn’t even down here. So then what the hell? Was he actually going crazy? He expected to hear Logan’s voice again, not Roman’s. Why was it Roman’s this time?

“Virgil?”

Virgil turned his head to see Patton walking into the clearing. Barefoot for some reason. Ninety percent of the time, Patton didn’t have shoes on. Virgil had no idea why. What madman walked outside with no shoes?

“What are you doing?” He took one look at the scene before him and raised a brow. “Did you… do okay?”

“I know this looks bad,” Virgil held up a hand, “but trust me, this is the outcome of like five rounds.”

Patton frowned. “Why did you do so many? And why by yourself?”

Virgil sat himself up with another groan. He needed to stop falling on his back. “I was trying to figure something out.” The daggers stared up at him. “I’m honestly still not sure what to make of it.”

“Well, what’s up?” He took a seat beside Virgil.

“I, uh,” how was he supposed to word this without sounding insane? “Yesterday I kind of heard something when we ran into that Figment.” He spared a glance at Patton. “It kind of -- it was, um -- it sounded like Logan. A little bit. Like, he yelled at me.”

Patton furrowed his brows. “Logan?”

“Yeah, and right now I heard Roman, but --” He gestured around -- “he isn’t exactly here.”

“What did they say?”

“Advice, I guess. Just what I should so next.”

Patton frowned in thought. “Well, I know for a fact that Logan wouldn’t have been there yesterday --” Virgil snorted -- “Oh, hush. And I just saw Roman before I came out. So something else has to be imitating them.” His eyes landed on the daggers. “Can I see these for a second?”

Virgil shrugged. “Go ahead.”

He picked them up and examined them. They looked the same as the first time Virgil ever saw them. Nothing about them was different. Nothing was off. “You might wanna move back.”

No need to tell Virgil twice. He scooted himself away, ignoring the pain that spread from the back of his arms. Patton commanded the dummies to spring back to life, and Virgil watched him fight. It was interesting, to say the least. He had never seen Patton fight with daggers before. Instruct him, yes, but never fight. He didn't like to. Virgil always assumed that was just because he fought from a distance rather than close up. It didn't seem as if that was entirely correct.

He handled the daggers like he had done so his whole life, moving them as if they were just another appendage of his body. He was deadly. Scary, almost. His movements were clear and precise -- aiming only at vital parts of the body. Places that could kill a human if hit. Maybe that’s what was so scary about it. He aimed to kill, not to maim. Not how Roman and Virgil were shown. And certainly not how Logan fought when given the chance.

“I don’t see anything wrong with them.” Patton didn’t spare a second glance at the dummy as it crumpled to pieces. “They’re just normal, old daggers. I didn’t even hear anything.” He handed them back to Virgil.

Virgil took them back, somewhat cautiously. “I must be going crazy, then.”

“Or…” The dummy sprung to life behind him. He didn’t even flinch. “One more round. I have an idea.” He stepped off to the side so Virgil could take his place.

“Uh, okay.” Virgil picked himself up, wincing, to walk over to it. It looked the same as it always did. No matter how many times it was hit, cut, or stabbed, it returned to the same state in pristine condition. Almost like magic. 

He took aim at the dummy and the cycle started anew. The little whispers aided him if he seemed to be stuck, but no prominent voice called out to him. This time, however, he noticed how the surrounding sound was muffled to him. Not the same kind of muffled as a stuffy ear or being underwater, but like headphones with no music playing. Which was an odd feeling since headphones weren’t actually on his head. Why would that be happening? Maybe it was --

_ “Swing behind you.” _

Without so much as a second thought, Virgil did as he was told. His arm stopped mid-motion. With the dagger mere inches from his face, Patton held onto Virgil's forearm. He smirked at Virgil’s wide eyes.

“Objective complete.” His voice sounded distant despite being so close. Virgil faintly registered the dummies falling back into stick piles. “Who’d you hear that time?” He let go of Virgil’s arm.

Virgil tried to gain some semblance of composure so he could answer. He didn’t know how to handle almost stabbing Patton in the face and him not being fazed by it in the least. “Logan again.” Even his own voice sounded far away.

“They respond to you.” Patton grinned. “That’s their magical property -- they take the voices of people you trust so you’ll listen to their advice.”

Virgil tapped the ends and sound returned back to him. “Do you have an explanation for why they make everything else sound muffled, then?”

“Well, that's an interesting side effect, but magic always comes with a price. That’s how things stay balanced. It’s most common with magical objects, but magic types also have their limits.” He looked up at the rustling leaves. “Like, I can’t stray too far from nature for too long or else things get a little… bad. So no big city dwelling for me.” He turned back to Virgil with a smile.

“Seems a little annoying.”

“It’s just kind of life." He shrugged. "Do you wanna head back inside now? I'm gonna start working on lunch.”

“Sure.”

They both followed the worn down path back to the house. Virgil spotted Roman at the dining table and walked over to him while Patton went off to the kitchen.

Virgil didn't even get the chance to sit down before Roman spoke to him, “Do you ever realize how much closer Picani is to Patton than he is to Logan?” He didn't spare a glance up from his laptop.

“Well, hello to you too,” Virgil muttered sarcastically. He plopped himself in a chair and messed around with one of the pens. “What are you even talking about, by the way?”

“I've been thinking --”

“That's groundbreaking.”

Roman stopped his deep concentration to glare at Virgil. “So I've been thinking, and it's something I couldn't help but notice, but Patton is the happy bubbly one, right?”

“Sure.”

“And Logan's like the exact opposite. He's mean, and cold, and arrogant, and a huge downer, and he shuts down  _ all _ of my ideas --”

“Yeah, I get it. Go on.”

“So why is Picani such a happy, excitable guy?”

“I get the feeling you're about to tell me.”

“I  _ do  _ have a bit of a theory.” Roman grinned. He pushed the laptop to the side so he could lean over the table. It allowed Virgil to see part of the photo he was editing. “I've been working on it for a bit, and I think I get it. Logan doesn't dull down Patton's energy like it seems he should. He focuses all that energy. He makes it less chaotic and uses it for a specific thing. It allows him to get out all his nerdiness in ways that are fun.”

Virgil glanced over to the kitchen where Patton and Logan were working on lunch. “So what I’m getting from this is that Logan’s just as big a dork as Patton, but he keeps it all inside and lets it out with Picani.”

“Exactly! Just like how all of Pearl’s fusions are show-offy in some way.”

“Why is this one of the things on your mind?”

“I don’t know. It’s been like two months.” He fell back against the chair and moved his laptop closer. “I need something to think about other than impending doom.”

Two months… It really  _ has _ been that long, hasn’t it? Neither Roman nor Virgil had gone back to their apartments after their previous trip. The keyboard sat in the closet of Virgil’s room. Untouched since that day. It felt like such a long time ago already. How have they been at this for two months?

“For once, I think I agree with you.”

Virgil continued to sit at the table with Roman. They didn’t talk all that much more, which was fine. Roman had four possible moods while editing photos: one, which was rare, “don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, don’t breathe in my direction”. Two, “wait, were you talking to me?”. Three, “I can only answer yes or no questions”. And four, “I can and will have an in-depth discussion with you whether you're listening or not”. So it was safe to say that Virgil didn’t mind the silence.

Logan and Patton were over in the kitchen, anyway, so there was at least background noise. Like their soft chatter, or the bustling of kitchenware. They were familiar sounds and ones that Virgil had long since gotten used to.

“I’m gonna go check on Thomas real quick. Don’t burn anything.” Patton winked before leaving.

Logan rolled his eyes.

Virgil’s attention was drawn back to the table as Roman shut his laptop with a heavy sigh. “Oh, how I loathe the editing process, but it is a necessary evil I must bear.” He placed a hand on his chest and looked off into the distance. “I can only hope that by the end of it all, I leave these pictures looking as extravagant as they deserve.”

Virgil stopped twirling his pen to make sure his unamused look came across well. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“Oh, I don’t need to  _ try  _ to impress.” He paused his theatrics to simper at Virgil.

Their interaction was cut short by the sharp gasp coming from the kitchen. They looked over to see Logan fall to the floor. Virgil rushed over in an instant, followed closely by Roman.

Logan curled up against the cabinet with his left arm pressed to his chest. From what Virgil could see, it was the same thing that happened last time. But this instance was more… intense. The black waves underneath his skin were farther -- taking up part of his bicep where previously it was only up to his forearm. The sharp flashes of smoke occurred all throughout it with no real pattern. Every new flash caused Logan to grit his teeth and claw uselessly at the tile. At one point, the entirety of Logan’s hand had disappeared into a smoky cloud. Twitching and moving like the mass Virgil and Roman saw over two months ago.

Slowly, the flashes stopped. The ink beneath his skin crawled over to his wrist, where a thick black band formed, then faded once again. Like nothing ever happened. Except this time Logan didn’t get up right away. He didn’t try to brush it off like no big deal. He stayed on the floor, staring hard at his hand. It trembled violently.

“I want to ask if you’re okay, but that was so obviously not healthy,” Roman muttered. He eyed Logan with concern.

As did Virgil. “You have to tell Patton.”

“No,” came Logan’s immediate reaction. He lifted himself up with the aid of the counter. His face twisted in a contorted grimace. “I’m fine.”

“Uh, none of that seemed very fine,” Roman added.

Logan frowned. “I have it under control. Patton doesn’t need to know yet.”

“Right. And how many times has it happened since we found out?” Virgil crossed his arms.

“That’s not important.”

Virgil was going to have a stroke or something. This man had a death wish. “Logan, if this keeps happening to you then you’re going to have to tell him. It’s only going to get worse the longer you keep this from him. It's already gotten worse.”

“I can’t.” Logan looked back down to his trembling hand. He seemed worn out. “He doesn’t need to know.”

“Who doesn’t need to know?”

The three jumped and turned to see Patton enter the kitchen again. Logan hid his hand behind his back and tried to look casual.

"Nothing. No one. Everything's fine."

Patton didn't appear convinced in the slightest. He stared at Logan with his expression caught between amusement and confusion. "Logan, honey, the stove's still on."

"What?" Logan's right hand was pressed against the stove top. "Oh. It seems it is." He removed his hand and turned off the flame without so much as a flinch.

Virgil tried to ignore the disaster of a cover-up happening right now.

Patton shook his head and approached Logan, holding out his hands. He didn't need to ask for Logan to put his hand there. "Well, no burns. So you still have that much going for you." He swept Logan's bangs out of his face with a smile. "But I'd recommend not pushing your luck." He paused, placing his hand on Logan's cheek and furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

Logan blinked. "Yeah. Fine."

He didn't look fine. Even Virgil could tell that. It looked like a strong gust of wind could blow him over. "I don't know, Logan, you seem a little iffy to me."

Logan sent him a glare when Patton's back was turned.

"Almost like something happened," Roman added.

_ "Did _ something happen?" Patton turned back to Logan, who dropped the glare.

"No. Roman just likes to be dramatic. You know how he is."

"It kind of seems like he has a point," Virgil continued. "It looks like something happened. But if it did, you'd obviously tell Patton, right?"

"Stop it," Logan growled.

"Lo?" Patton placed his other hand on Logan's cheek to cup his face. "Nothing's wrong, is it? You're okay?"

"I, um," Logan seemed at a loss of words for once. Virgil could almost see the gears spinning in his head.

Patton frowned. "Maybe you should go lie down. You don't look too good."

“I’m fine.” He brushed off Patton’s hands and side-stepped around him. As he did so, he moved his hand to keep it out of Patton’s sight. “I just -- I’m fine. Nothing happened to me. I’m perfectly okay.”

“You’ve never been very good at lying.”

Logan stopped. He sighed and closed his eyes. For a moment, Virgil thought he would say the truth. He should have known better than to hope for that. “Let’s just continue with lunch. We don’t need to stop for any false alarms.”

Then that was that. Logan once again kept a dangerous secret from the one person that could possibly help him. Patton didn’t buy it in the least. He knew something was up, as any person would, but he didn’t say anything. He did what Logan wanted and dropped the subject -- continued with lunch like no big deal. Not even Roman tried to bring it up again.

Well, Virgil didn’t know how much longer he could stay silent.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil finds out some things that may help out Logan, but it seems too good to be true.

Virgil was going to punch something.

Maybe a wall, maybe someone’s face, maybe even the goddamn sun. He felt as if he had to. Logan continued to refuse to tell anyone about his problem, and at this point, Virgil was keeping it a secret just for pleasantries. But that was starting to wear thin. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to tell Patton. It was the right thing to do -- Logan was just being stubborn. And a maniac.

Honestly, he wasn’t fooling anybody. Anyone who knew him would be able to tell that something was up. It wasn’t something easy to pin down, but one could see that he wasn’t the same. Even if they weren’t that familiar with him.

And yet nothing was done about it. The three people in the whole, wide world who knew a thing about it, did absolutely nothing. Thomas and Patton continued to be out of the loop, having questions but never getting answers. It was awful. It brought Virgil closer and closer to his breaking point because this whole thing was just ridiculous.

“We have to do something.” Virgil stopped in front of Roman during a brief break in the busy demand of drinks. The bar was the one place they could talk in private. As ironic as that seemed.

Roman stopped messing with his empty shot glass to look up at Virgil. “About what?”

“About the suicidal maniac at home.”

“Oof. You still on that?” He put his head in his hand. “He’s not gonna change his mind. I think he would have to literally be dying to even consider saying anything.”

Virgil hated how right that was. “We can’t just stand back from it. He’s being a stubborn idiot. Doesn’t that frustrate you?”

“That’s always frustrated me about him. I’d say I’d know that better than anyone, but Patton’s dealt with him for over two hundred years, so.” He gave a half-hearted shrug. “What are we supposed to do about it?”

“I don’t know. Something.”

“You know, you’re really hot when you’re all riled up.”

Virgil scowled. “You make me want to punch your teeth in.”

“That’s kinky.” A lazy grin slid across his face.

He resisted the overwhelming urge to break a glass over Roman’s head. “Stop trying to deflect issues by making innuendos.”

“That’s literally how I got through the entirety of my adolescence.”

The urge was strong, but he couldn’t go through with it. Not in public. “We have to come to some sort of consensus on this. A final decision or something. Literally anything. Because he obviously can’t be trusted with his own life and we’re the only other two people that know.”

Roman dropped his hand. “He’s magic-less, Virge. We can’t just fix that.”

“Then we tell Patton. Or find Altair ourselves.”

“Do you honestly think two humans would be able to find a spooky wizard man when the actual magic users can’t even do it?”

Virgil tried to hold onto that thin thread of confidence, but it fell from his grasp. He deflated with a heavy sigh. “No. But I’m just worried, and frustrated, and --” he let out an aggravated groan -- “I hate keeping secrets. Especially something that’s as big as this.”

“You’re worrying too much. It’s out of our control.”

“But it’s exactly  _ in _ our control. We can tell Patton at any time.”

Roman paused as if to mull over the words. “Okay. How 'bout this -- the next time we see him glitching out, we tell Patton. We don’t promise him anything, and we don’t let him stop us. Sound good?”

That was a start.

Most of the night passed as it normally did. Roman ended up finding a pen and some napkins to play games with Virgil anytime he wasn’t busy. They played four rounds of tic-tac-toe, more rounds than necessary of dots and boxes, one round of Pictionary, and now they were on hangman. It wasn’t how they normally passed the time together, but it seemed to be waning down the intensity of their previous conversation. So that was a plus. Also, Virgil didn't have alcohol clouding his judgment so he won most of the games. That made things a lot more fun.

Two hours until closing, Jamahl came up to the bar in uncertainty. "Hey, uh, Virgil?” He drummed his fingers against the counter. “There's a guy over there that wants to see you." He motioned over to one of the booths.

Virgil frowned. "Does he have a name?" He didn't see any faces he recognized. The pens in his pockets felt a lot more prominent.

"Don't know. He didn't say anything other than needing to see you."

He shared a glance with Roman. Confusion passed between them as well as uncertainty. "I'll check it out. Thanks."

Jamahl left with a nod of his head.

“You’re not actually going over there are you?” Roman set down his pen to give Virgil his full attention. “We don’t know who he is. Or if he’s human. He could be anything.”

“Right. So you’re gonna watch my back.” He looped around from behind the bar, leaving Roman gaping in his seat. "The answer's Prince Phillip, by the way."

He couldn't hold back a smirk at Roman's astonished mumble, "Why are you so good at this?"

He walked along the booths and took note of the people still in the building. Many of them were in groups; friends having a good time out for once. Very few were drunk. He slowed to a stop at a booth with only one person. A man lazily playing with a fork and zero interest in anything around him. He didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the patrons.

Once the man noticed Virgil staring, he looked up. A slow smile stretched along his face. Not a Figment, then. "I heard you're looking for Altair."

Virgil slipped a hand in his pocket. "Says who?"

"Says a lot of people. But more specifically, you did."

Oh, shit, he did. Maybe talking out in the open about magic wasn't the smartest thing to do. Virgil wasn't the only person in the world good at eavesdropping. "Okay. So why does that matter to you?" He slid into the seat across from the man.

"It doesn't, really, but I do happen to have a conscience. And that means I can't go on unless I tell you what I know."

"How is it that you know anything?"

He set the fork down and placed his hands together. "I guess you can call me a theorist of sorts. I figure out things so other people don't have to." He winked.

Virgil didn't find it amusing. "So what does that have to do with me?" He moved the pen out onto his lap, twisting it between his fingers.

"I have things that you want -- well, one thing. Altair's location."

He placed his elbow on the table top without stopping the pen from moving. “How can you know that? No one knows that.”

“Correction: no one wants you to know that. Anyone who  _ does _ know is saving their own skin.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Then why would you say anything? What makes you so different than anyone else?”

He smirked a bit, but maybe that was his version of a smile. “It’s my job. If someone needs something found out, then I go through the efforts of getting all the information I can. Now, you didn’t request my services but I feel you need my help. I have a hunch that you’re on a bit of a time limit.”

“Then get on with it.” Almost as if on impulse, Virgil stopped and clicked the pen. Instead of a dagger, however, the ballpoint tip poked out like it was a normal pen.

_ “Don’t brandish a weapon in public,” _ Thomas’s voice hissed at him.

Right. That wouldn’t have been smart. The muffled sound of the voices around them was a gentle reminder that they weren’t alone for this discussion. All it would take was one glance in their direction to see a dangerous weapon out in the open. There was no way he’d be able to explain that.

The Theorist didn’t seem all that impressed. “Why don’t we put the pen down?” He pushed Virgil’s hand down to the table with a finger.

Virgil scowled, clicking the pen and putting it back in his pocket. “How am I supposed to know if I can trust you?”

“Oh, you don’t --” Virgil was about ready to leave without a second glance back -- “but is that a chance you’re willing to take? Do you honestly think Logan will last until you get a lead of your own?”

Virgil stared at him in shock. “How the hell do you know about Logan?”

He placed a finger to his smirking lips. “I have to keep some of my secrets.” He dropped the act, suddenly taking on a serious tone. “Do you want the info or not?”

Virgil pursed his lips. If this was a trick, he’d be putting everyone in danger by saying yes. If it wasn’t, he’d run the risk of killing Logan by saying no. Either decision had a dangerous consequence. “What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t one. Maybe let me know the conclusion to your story. I do appreciate a good ending.” He offered out his hand.

Fuck it. “Fine.” Virgil shook it to seal the deal. “Tell me everything you know.”

So Virgil listened. The Theorist explained how Altair nearly perfected the art of hiding away. Nearly, but not quite. He most often stuck to less populated areas. Which, as time marched on, became harder to find. He was left sticking to places that people abandoned. And that’s where he was now. In an old, run-down building off of Hazelnut and Terrace. Just right outside their little city of Balledo.

“It shouldn’t be hard to miss, but I’d watch out for anything. I hear he doesn’t take kindly to intruders.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He slid out of the booth to head back over to the bar. “Thanks or whatever.”

“Charming,” the Theorist muttered. “Oh, and Virgil,” Virgil froze. He didn’t recall ever saying his name, “watch out for that little boy, would you? He seems to get into a lot of trouble.”

Virgil didn’t have a verbal response to that. He continued on his way as if he hadn’t heard it at all. But he couldn’t pretend he didn't hear it even if he wanted to. It almost sounded like a warning -- a certainty. Like he knew something Virgil didn't.

"What happened? What did he do? Are you okay?" Roman didn't wait to bombard Virgil with questions. He even stopped him before he got behind the bar.

“I’m gonna need you to tone it down real quick.” He returned Roman down into his seat. “I’m fine. We just talked -- he said he had information for me.”

“What kind of information?”

“Where Altair is.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “Like actually? He knows where he is?”

“That’s what he said.” He frowned a bit. “I don’t know how reliable that is, though. Patton and Logan have been searching forever with no sign of him, but suddenly this guy knows where to look? Seems a bit suspicious.”

Roman frowned as well. “Then what are we supposed to do? This is the closest we’ve gotten yet -- are we just gonna pass it up? Logan’s not gonna last forever.”

“I know. We just -- we just need someone to know if this is true. We have to ask someone else.”

They didn’t talk about it for the rest of the night. Not even on the car ride back home. They let it hang in the air over them, constant ‘what-if’ scenarios playing out in their heads.

Once they stepped into the house, they stopped in their tracks. One light was on in the living room. Thomas sat on the floor, a canvas in front of him and a paintbrush in his hand. It looked like he was struggling to stay awake. His palette carried a mix of dark colors which translated onto the canvas as that cloaked figure in the grass as before, though this time it appeared more completed. There were five purple hyacinths -- a flower with clusters of star-shaped petals -- but the one the figure touched was starting to wilt. Its fingers transformed the deep purple of the petals into a murky brown.

"Hey, kid," Virgil said in a low voice as he took a seat on the couch. He vaguely registered Roman heading off to his room. It became a sort of unspoken agreement that Virgil would be the one to talk to Thomas whenever they found him up late. "Whatcha up to?"

Thomas blinked a few times. "Painting."

"Really? Kind of seemed like you were falling asleep."

He yawned. "No."

Virgil couldn't help the small smile that twitched at his lips. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Painting."

"I see that. But you should be in bed. It's late and you look exhausted."

Thomas waved a hand as if to dismiss such an idea. "It's only two AM. I can handle staying up later." Despite his words, he rubbed his eye, and ended up smearing black paint underneath it.

"It's almost three, kid."

"What?" He looked over to the digital clock beneath the TV. Sure enough, the time was a lot closer to three than it was to two. "Oh, man. I guess I have been up for a while."

"What's keeping you up?" Virgil let his eyes wander over the canvas. It was a rather dreary painting if he were to be honest.

Thomas shrugged. "Just needed to do something." He ran the brush up and down the palette, leaving a dark streak in its wake.

Right away Virgil could tell something was wrong. Like an innate instinct that pulled at his stomach. "Is there something on your mind?"

"I've just… I've been thinking."

"About what?"

He dropped the brush and sighed. A heavy and sad sound. "Logan's been hiding something. I know he has. But he doesn't want to tell me." He occupied himself with his hands by peeling off the dried up paint that dotted them. "And I know that you and Roman know, too," Virgil felt his stomach drop, "but I don't want to hear it from you. I want Logan to tell me."

"Why's that? You could easily ask either of us and we'd tell you."

"I know Logan almost as well as Patton. He wouldn't want you to say anything." Virgil had to agree. "And it's not the point. If he were to tell me, it would be straight from the source without any of your filters. Except he's never going to tell me no matter how many times I ask." He stopped messing with his hands. "He still thinks of me as a little kid. He treats me like I'm still five years old and I can't handle anything. I'm almost a hundred. I'm not that immature, am I?"

"Of course not. But… you  _ are _ a kid, Thomas. You're his kid. He doesn't want to upset you."

"And keeping things from me is supposed to make that better?" He frowned at Virgil. His eyes were starting to water. "It's something big. It has to be. Why else would he keep it from Patton, too?"

Virgil hesitated. There was a chance it made Thomas feel better. "Maybe it won't be an issue anymore."

Thomas furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I may have found out where Altair is. A nd that might help his problem."

His eyes widened. "For real?"

"Maybe. I don't know if the person who told me can be trusted."

"Who told you?" Before Virgil could even open his mouth, Thomas continued, "no. Wait. Don't say anything. I know exactly who we have to ask." He paused. "Maybe when it's a normal time. I don't think they'd want to be woken up in the middle of the night."

"I guess that means you should head to bed, then."

"I am ninety-four years old. You're not the boss of me." He rubbed his eyes again. "But on an unrelated note, I will be heading up to my room after I clean up."

Virgil shook his head with a fond smile. "Don't forget to wash your face. You look like a raccoon."

The next morning, Virgil woke up at the ungodly hour of 8:30 AM. That shouldn't have been a real time. He would have stayed in bed if _someone_ didn't open up the curtains to let all the awful sun in. He let out a mixture of a groan and a whine as he tried to block it out with his blankets. It didn't work.

"Come on, Virgil." Thomas shook his shoulder. "We gotta go see Joan and Talyn so you can tell them who you saw. We'll be back before you know it."

Virgil pulled down the blanket enough to scowl, though in his groggy state it might have come across as a pout. "This is my sleeping time. I have work tonight. Which, in case you didn't notice, requires me to stay up late."

"You can sleep when we get back." He yanked off the blankets.

Virgil groaned in loud and obvious annoyance but rolled out of bed anyway. After a slight wardrobe change, they were on their way.

"Going to Joan's with Virgil, be back as soon as possible," Thomas mentioned in passing to Patton and Logan.

"Before breakfast?" Patton asked from the stove.

The mention of food made Virgil's mouth water despite rarely ever eating breakfast in his life.

"Save us some," was Thomas's response.

"Don't tell Roman I'm taking his car," Virgil called back as he grabbed the keys. "I don't want to deal with his whining when I'm sleeping later." Then they left.

They hopped up the front steps to a familiar little house in a sleepy neighborhood. Virgil still felt like staying in bed was a better option. He didn’t know how Thomas could be so awake. He didn’t know how anyone could be so awake. It was exhausting to think about.

That thought only tripled in his mind upon seeing Joan having no trouble at such an early hour in the morning. Well, early to Virgil at least. Far too early.

“So what’s up?” Joan asked as they all sat down in the living room. Talyn was already there with a little dog in their lap. Sephone wasn’t anywhere to be seen, which made Virgil on edge.

“We need you to fact check some things,” Thomas explained. "Virgil met someone who thinks they know where Altair is."

"Who was it?"

Virgil snapped out of his nervous scanning of the room to process the words that were spoken to him. "Uh, I never figured out his name. He referred to himself as a theorist, I think."

"Wait --  _ a  _ theorist? Or  _ the _ Theorist?" Talyn questioned.

"Um. I don't really know." He pulled his hoodie sleeves down to cover part of his palms. "He said he figured things out so people don't have to if that helps."

Talyn thought for a moment. "Sounds like him."

"Who's him?" Thomas looked at them in confusion.

"I would also like to know about this mysterious guy you know so much about," Joan added.

Talyn ignored the obvious teasing in favor of laying down some exposition. "They call him the Theorist, but that's all anyone really knows about him. He's like an urban legend, really. Just a name whispered around when you need to know something you probably shouldn't. He's a Seer, I think."

"What's a Seer?" Virgil asked.

"Someone who can see the future," Thomas explained. "But, like, they can just do it themselves. They don't need a spell or mystic object or anything. They can also look into the past if they want. Logan's sister was a Seer, actually --"

"We don't need a history lesson at this exact second, Thomas," Joan said.

Virgil felt as if he needed one. How long has Logan had a sister?

"Right. Uh, so does that mean we can trust what he says?"

Talyn pondered the question for a moment. "From what I've heard, he usually gives out genuine information. Sometimes what he says isn't always true, but that's a rare circumstance. I think I've only met one person who's complained about him. He's a pretty chill guy."

"What are the chances he's given us the right information?" Virgil grimaced. He jumped at the feeling of something in his lap. One of Sephone's heads looked up at him with puppy eyes. For a big dog, she was rather sneaky.

"Nine out of ten?" Talyn shrugged. "I've only ever heard stories, but he never tries to trick anyone. He genuinely likes helping people."

"That sounds like a good sign." Thomas grinned.

Maybe it did. But Virgil couldn't find anything to celebrate about. The Theorist could see into the future -- he had a natural ability to do so -- which meant that the warning he gave Virgil shouldn’t be taken lightly. He knew more than he was saying. And Virgil didn’t want to experience it first hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to make this canon right here and now: Thomas uses outdated slang terms in casual conversation without meaning to. Like in addition to modern slang, he can and will spew out slang from anything to the 30s to the 90s. Picani finds it hilarious.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> W͏̤ę̫̙̥̜̹̘͔l͉̳̪͕̥̭c̘̰̟o̙͉͕̰m͏̼̪̥͈͔̦ͅe̞̼͍͡ ͉̦͔͉̤t̵̺̗̹o ̹̻̝͚̞̠͉t̩he ͏͚̜̤p͕a͉̝n̡͚̯i̮̪̟c̭̟̘ ҉̯̤̼̥̥r̫͓͙̼o̲̮̤̜̝͉̼om͇͍̗.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know if this chapter needs a TW? But proceed with caution (and feel free to let me know if a warning is needed)

Virgil slept well passed one o’clock. In his defense, he needed the rest. Also, he hated mornings. He still felt tired when he woke up, but at least it was at a level he could manage. He stared up at the ceiling for several minutes before deciding to get out of bed. He trudged down the hall to see three faces he knew well. It was odd how quickly he had gotten used to living in a house with four other dorks.

Roman and Thomas sat on the floor at the coffee table playing some sort of card game. Maybe it was Speed. Virgil was too sleepy to pay attention to it. Logan was sitting with his legs crossed on the couch, scribbling into the notebook on his lap. Patton was most likely outside. The TV played mindless background noise.

Virgil plopped onto the armchair without a word. No one paid him any mind. It was nice; things felt normal. As if this was just a regular day with friends. If your friends happened to consist of two people who are sometimes one person, a ninety-four-year-old child, and a photographer who is way too into fantasy, that is. So, maybe Virgil wouldn’t say that “regular” fit in with this group in particular.

“Dammit,” Roman’s complaint was almost covered by Thomas’s cheer. When Virgil looked, he saw Thomas with an empty hand and Roman holding onto one card.

“You were pretty close that time,” Thomas teased. He pushed himself off the floor to wander over to the kitchen.

Roman frowned and started gathering all the cards into a single deck. “I’m going to call bullshit because Speed has been around since the 40s at least, and you’ve had the advantage of being around at that time.”

“Hey, just because I’m old doesn’t mean you can use it to justify your crummy gameplay.”

Virgil snorted. “He’s got you there.”

Roman threw a card at him. “No one asked you.”

Virgil retaliated by keeping the card.

Thomas came back in with a bowl of grapes and took a seat beside Logan to stay out of the rather immature fight going on. Virgil stretched to keep the card out of Roman's reach and kept going farther the closer he got to it. As long as Thomas didn't have to deal with it, he was fine. He munched on grapes as he watched the scene unfold. They were like two school children whose whole relationship was based on bullying each other. It often led to random entertaining moments such as this.

He glanced over to Logan and almost choked on a grape. “Holy cow.” He set the bowl down on the coffee table while placing a hand over his mouth. “How long have you been able to draw?” He had always been under the impression that Logan used his notebook to write in, not create literal works of art.

Logan stopped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pressed the notebook to his chest to hide the pages from view.

Roman snatched the card from Virgil’s hand and placed it in the deck. They stuck their tongue out at each other.

“Let me see it.” Thomas moved to sit on his legs and face Logan. He held out his hands expectantly.

“I think not.”

“Oh, c’mon. Please?” He gave his best pout and puppy eyes.

Logan wasn’t phased. “No.”

Thomas huffed and slouched his shoulders. “That always works on Virgil.”

“What?” Virgil stopped messing with Roman to pay attention to the separate conversation going on.

“Oh, nothing.” Thomas gave him a charming smile.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Thomas just wishes to see things that are none of his business.”

“It’s not gonna hurt anyone if you let me take a little peek.” He crossed his arms. “What’s so wrong about knowing how to draw?”

“That isn’t the issue.”

“Aw, you’re embarrassed,” Roman commented without even needing to look up.

Despite his scowl, Logan’s cheeks turned a soft pink color. “I am not. I just don’t see the point on how this is so interesting.”

“If you don’t see the point then why not let me take a gander at it?” Thomas blinked innocently at him.

Logan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what? I’m just -- here.” He handed the notebook over. “I don’t know where you learned to be so stubborn.”

“Gee, I wonder.” He began to look through it. And he may or may not have held it out a bit so Roman and Virgil could peek over his shoulders to see. “It’s not like Picani practically raised me or any -- oh my God. These are the prettiest things I’ve ever seen in my life. How long were you planning to keep this a secret?”

"I have no idea what you mean."

Every page Thomas flipped to had a beautifully inked drawing. A realistic yet scratchy style that seemed very unique to Logan. There were many different subjects. Some inanimate, some real. Even a few that extended across two pages. They were very detailed and intricate for something done in a few days. So far, Thomas’s favorite had to be the one with the little fluffy bird. He knew for a fact Patton had a part to play in that. That man had a scary good way with handling animals.

“Is that Kilgarah?” Virgil pointed at the page with a roughly sketched dragon. A sly smile spread across his lips. “I thought you weren’t interested in Merlin.”

“I never explicitly said that.” Logan crossed his arms as his face turned a brighter pink.

“Well, it looks great.” Roman grinned. “You should do little Aithusa next.”

“I’m just -- I’m really blown away by this.” Thomas couldn’t stop gazing at every illustration in amazement. “How did you manage to trace all your lines so well?”

“I didn’t.”

Thomas lifted his gaze up to Logan. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I didn’t trace anything.”

He gaped at him for a moment. “Shut up. You had to have traced this.” His wonder only grew when Logan continued to deny it. “No freaking way. You free-handed all of these? In pen?” That sounded impossible to Thomas. Free-handing in pencil seemed a little more believable since there was a chance to erase mistakes, but there weren’t any second chances with pen.

Logan didn’t seem to understand Thomas’s astonishment. “Is that difficult?”

Too many words tried to get out of Thomas’s mouth at once. How in the hell did Logan not see anything impossible about that? “Uh, yeah it’s difficult. It’s really difficult. Have you ever even tried to use a pencil first?”

“I’ve never drawn with a pencil before.”

Thomas almost choked on air. “You’re over seven hundred years old and you’ve never drawn with a pencil before?”

“You’re seven hundred years old?” Virgil and Roman asked over each other, though Roman’s came out sounding similar to a screech.

Logan sent a glare Thomas’s way, who in turn raised the notebook to hide his mouth from view. “Yes, I am,” Logan continued. “But that’s hardly relevant to this discussion. And, Thomas, if you must know, pencils as you know them are a fairly modern invention. It was common to use ink."

"What'd you do before ink?" Thomas lowered the notebook a bit. He knew for a fact that ink would have been impossible for Logan to come by during his childhood.

"I, uh, I would burn shapes into wood." He traced a shape in the air with his finger as if to demonstrate. "Fallen wood, mind you. Patton might have killed me if I burned anything into a tree."

"Okay, that's great, but can we please go back to the part where you're seven hundred?" Roman asked. "I think I still need to wrap my head around it."

"You told them without me?" Patton complained as he stepped into the living room with a pout. "I wanted to be there for it."

"I didn't tell them. Thomas blurted it out."

Thomas chuckled nervously, raising the notebook back again. "Sorry."

Patton slipped into a smile and stepped forward to ruffle Thomas's hair. "Don't worry about it, son. Sometimes that just happens."

"I'm not your son," he mumbled under his breath.

"What year were you both born?" Virgil decided to ask.

Patton shrugged while Logan answered, "No idea. I had it narrowed down to some time in the fourteenth century, but I'm unsure of any exact years or dates."

"I was born in the winter," Patton added. "But I don't really know how to translate the date into something that makes sense for a modern, human calendar."

"What is it in a past, non-human calendar?" Roman questioned.

_"Treto cheizmon tin pepti daméra naká punpó mjeslino."_

Instinctively, the other three turned to Logan for a translation. "I have no idea how that would translate, either," he admitted. "It's not exactly a numerical date. It’s just kind of a statement."

“Alright. Well now that I know how old you are, I have at least a hundred questions I would love for you to answer.”

As Roman buzzed along with questions, Virgil pulled Thomas away for a private conversation. He made sure to lower his voice before speaking, “Did you tell them?”

“Oh, uh,” Thomas messed with the pages in Logan’s notebook, “I was kind of working up the courage?”

“I was knocked out for almost six hours.”

“Okay, so I might have forgotten about it a little.” He cringed a bit. “I just don’t know how to say it.”

Virgil sighed. “I don’t wanna put you on a time limit, kid, but maybe you should tell them sooner rather than later. Like today.”

Thomas continued to fidget with the pages. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Fine.”

He blinked in surprise as if he didn’t expect that to work. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it right now.” He walked over to the other three without another moment’s hesitation. “Alright guys, I hate to interrupt the twenty questions, but I have something really important to say.” He waited until he had their attention before continuing. “Last night I had someone tell me where Altair is. And this morning, Thomas and I double-checked with Joan and Talyn to see if it was reliable.”

“And?” Patton pried, clearly eager to hear some good news.

“It’s highly likely that it is.”

And then Patton lit up. He smiled so wide that literal sunshine seemed dull in comparison. It made Virgil feel ten times lighter and caused a little smile of his own to come out. “That’s amazing. We’re so close to fixing all of this.”

“There’s still the issue on what we’re going to do,” Logan pointed out. He seemed to be going over several different scenarios in his head already.

“You have us,” Thomas said.

Logan paused. “I certainly hope by ‘us’ you mean Roman and Virgil, and not that you’re implying you’ll be coming along.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Thomas poured all his attention into the notebook in his hands. "I figured I could help in order to make up for mistakes one might have made prior.”

A grimace flicked across both Logan’s and Patton’s faces as if a foul memory flashed in their minds for a second. “That isn’t the exact issue,” Logan continued. “You’re still a child. You have very little experience in fighting.”

“Logan’s right,” Patton added. “This could be very dangerous. I wouldn’t even want Roman and Virgil to get involved, but I don’t really think we have much of a choice. We don’t exactly have anyone else to ask.”

"But I can help."

"Maybe you should listen to them," Virgil muttered. He ignored Thomas's shocked expression to continue, "it would be a lot safer if you stayed here." The Theorist’s words were loud and clear: something would happen to Thomas if he went. And Virgil couldn’t allow that.

Thomas frowned down at the notebook. It took all of Virgil’s willpower to not take back anything upon seeing that expression.

“Why not give him a chance?” Roman spoke up. “Who knows? We might need an extra pair of hands.”

Neither Patton nor Logan seemed all that convinced, to which Virgil let out a silent breath of relief for. As long as one of them didn’t change their mind then everything would be good. It was almost as if they shared the same brain; if one of them thought differently, then the other could be swayed to think the same way.

“I promise I won’t get in the way this time. Please.” Thomas gave them a genuine plea.

Virgil glanced nervously over to Patton and Logan. He couldn’t say any more about this. It would be their decision in the end. He knew, if he wanted, he could tell them about the possibility of Thomas getting hurt if he went. But he was pretty sure he’d seen enough movies and read enough novels to know that telling someone the future was a surefire way to make it come true.

“It’s still dangerous,” Patton said. “At least Roman and Virgil know how to use weapons and are capable of defending themselves. But you…” He trailed off.

“I can’t just stay back and watch --” Virgil caught sight of Logan’s reaction to that. A spark of recognition. Words that were familiar and held a specific weight -- “at least give me a second chance. Some way to show you that I can do this. Please. I know I can do this if you just let me.”

“I don’t --”

“Okay,” Logan cut off in a steady voice.

“What?” Patton and Virgil stared at him in disbelief.

“Really?” Thomas beamed. “Oh, thank you so much, Logan.” He rushed over to give him a hug.

Virgil didn’t know how he could have interjected without sounding like an asshole. He didn’t want Thomas to come along for fear of something terrible happening, but he couldn’t downright say that. Maybe he should have said something when he had the chance.

“Uh, you sure about this, Lo?” Patton wrung his hands. It seemed Virgil wasn’t the only one nervous about it.

“Just trust me on this one.”

And that’s all it took for Thomas to tag along.

They elected to go the next night in order to be better prepared. And boy, oh boy, if that wasn’t agonizing for Virgil. Every second that ticked by felt like hell. He didn’t know what to do. At this point, it wasn’t avoidable. He just had to keep an extra eye on Thomas throughout this whole excursion. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about already.

The building, as it turned out, used to be an old shopping place. It had a vast parking lot full of litter and faded paint. The big, blocky letters that were once attached to the front were long gone and were instead replaced by faded outlines. Who knew how long _this_ one had been abandoned for. Virgil didn’t even recognize the name.

Unfortunately, the inside was no better. Trash covered much of the floor. Some displays and shelves were still left untouched -- somehow managing to make things that much more creepy. An old, musty smell wafted in from all corners of the building. It was kind of disgusting.

“It’s so creepy,” Thomas commented as he huddled into his jacket. He stayed near Roman, as he was the closest person with a light source. “Did it have to be another abandoned place? It couldn’t have been like a park or something?”

Virgil felt that on a spiritual level. But this place didn’t seem as death-trappy as the manufacturing plant. It actually seemed like they had a chance at escaping this without dying.

“Calm down, Virgil Jr., I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Roman teased.

Thomas grumbled but his words couldn’t be made out clearly.

“Both of you -- be quiet,” Logan snapped. “We’re here for a reason and it isn’t going to help if you keep blabbering.”

They muttered apologies.

“I could always add a little extra light, Lo,” Patton whispered. If Virgil wasn’t so close he might not have heard it.

“Now is not the time, Patton.”

Patton frowned and fell out of step.

Interesting.

The group continued to wander around in near silence. Virgil and Logan kept at the front with their lights. No one had any idea of where to start. There wasn’t any evidence of anyone being here at all. But, as Virgil has learned the hard way, looks could be deceiving. Every turn caused more uneasiness to grow within the group. They had to find someone -- anyone. They couldn’t have made this trip for no reason.

And yet the deeper they got, with no sign of anyone appearing, a sick feeling began to swirl in Virgil’s stomach. Something was off. He couldn’t tell what, but it was something. It didn’t have anything to do with the building, either. No. This was… this was like dread. A deeply-rooted dread that might as well have always been with him. But he didn’t know what could be causing it. Maybe he was being paranoid.

“What the hell?”

A deep chill rooted Virgil to the spot. He could barely manage to turn enough to see Roman, who was looking off toward the side at something. Except nothing was there. Just a makeshift aisle with nothing in between. Nothing at the end. Nothing that should have caused that tone in his voice. And yet it somehow managed to make Virgil feel more uneasy.

“Roman?” Thomas tugged on Roman’s sleeve to grab his attention.

But Roman didn’t pay him any mind. He continued to stare in confusion and horror. “M-Mother? How are -- how did --?”

“What’s happening?” Thomas turned to Logan and Patton for an answer.

Logan frowned a bit. “Roman,” he walked over to him, “if you’re seeing something, it’s not there. There isn’t anyone here but the five of us.”

Thomas lifted his hand and waved it in front of his eyes. There wasn’t a reaction. “I don’t think that’s a good sign.” He gave Logan a worried glance.

“Neither do I.” Logan’s frown deepened.

Virgil wanted to ask if they had any ideas, but the words never got to take form. Patton’s frantic voice sounded before he could even open his mouth.

“Logan?!”

Immediately, Logan returned to his side. “Patton?” He grabbed his outstretched hand. “What’s wrong? Are you seeing something?”

“There’s -- I -- I can’t tell.” He put his other hand over Logan’s. “Too many things are happening. I don’t -- I don’t know what’s real. I can’t tell. Logan,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “why are you leaving?”

Logan stared at him in bewilderment. “I’m not. Patton, I’m right here.”

“Come back. Please. You can’t leave. You can’t…”

“Patton. Patton, I’m not going anywhere.” He shook his shoulder. “Patton.” But he didn’t get a response.

“I think he’s gone, too,” Virgil murmured.

Logan sighed and faced the other two. “I don’t have an answer to what’s going on, but just know that whatever you see -- if you start to see it -- is not real. No one is here but us.”

“What should we do?” Thomas hovered at Virgil’s side.

For once, Virgil could see right through Logan. He didn’t know. He was just as lost as them. “Until we figure out what’s causing this we can’t exactly do anything. So before we even think about fixing it we have to find --” He cut himself off with a sharp gasp. The phone in his hand clattered to the floor. “You.” He took a tiny step back, wide eyes never leaving the empty spot between Virgil and Thomas. “No. No, you’re not real.” He turned away from whatever he was seeing.

Uh oh.

“Shut up. You’re not real.” He covered his ears. “I’m not there. I’m -- I -- you can’t be here.”

Virgil had an awful feeling that the battle was being lost. “Logan, don’t believe it. You’re right -- it’s not there. You’re here with us.”

“You can’t stay. You have to leave.” Virgil couldn’t tell if he was talking to his hallucination or not. “You can’t stay.”

“Logan?” Thomas called in concern.

He didn’t get a response.

“What are we supposed to do?” He turned to Virgil. “Why is this happening to them? What are they seeing?”

“I, I don’t know.” He truly didn’t. “But we can’t fall into it. We have to figure out what’s going on.” He put his hands on Thomas’s shoulders, careful to mind his phone. “Focus on right here and now, okay? We’re the only two left.” That wasn’t stressful or anything.

“Okay.”

Virgil could tell he was frightened. Hell, he was too. The people around them were falling prey to hallucinations and so far there didn’t seem to be any coming back from it. Or any avoiding it for that matter. There was no telling what they were seeing or why, but it was clear that they weren’t seeing the same thing. Perhaps they saw something specific to them.

And then Thomas’s attention drifted away for a moment.

“Kid.” Virgil found himself squeezing his shoulder. “Did you just see something?”

“N-no.” Despite this, his eyes flicked away. As if to make sure something was still there.

“If I find out you’re lying to me I’m not going to be very happy.” Probably not the best thing to say to a child you’ve yelled at before about such an issue, but he couldn’t help it. He was trying his best to maintain some semblance of control.

“He’s not real. I know he isn’t.”

Virgil watched as Thomas tried to peer around him to see something. Someone. Only to return back to ignoring it with a more panicked expression.

Getting desperate, Virgil grabbed Thomas’s face with one hand and forced him to look him in the eyes. “Focus on me. There’s only five of us in this room, alright? No one else is here. And right now, you’re talking to me. I’m right here. I’m real and I’m in front of you. Whoever you think you see isn’t really there.”

“Y-yeah, okay.” He nodded as best as he could with Virgil holding onto his face. But with a gasp and wide eyes, he tore himself away. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil furrowed his brows. “Thomas?”

“You can’t tell anyone. I never should have said anything. Please don’t tell anyone.” He continued to beg to someone that wasn’t really there.

Fuck. Okay, this wasn’t good. This was the exact opposite of good. What the hell was Virgil supposed to do now? He tried to grab everyone’s attention -- just one more time -- but no one responded to him. It’s like he wasn’t even there at all.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Step one: don’t freak out. Well, don’t freak out any more than he already was. Step two: find what’s causing this. As long as Virgil wasn’t seeing anything then he was the only one who could find the source. It could be anything -- anyone. He didn’t know shit about magic. But he had a feeling he’d know it when he’d see it.

 _If_ he could see it.

Oh, God, what if he couldn’t see it? What if he walked right past it? What if it was invisible? What if it could only be seen by someone with magic? Or, worse yet, what if it was a curse? How would he reverse it? Curses never came with clear instructions!

A chill crawled down his back -- almost like an icy finger running down his spine. It forced him to shudder. The space around him started to dim. As if a shadow had been thrown over the surrounding area to the point where he couldn’t see anyone else. Not even his light illuminated anything.

Alright, this was _not_ helping his situation. What the fuck.

He tried to keep his breathing under control. That was the one thing he had control over. He could manage that, at least. He could focus on that. Just breathe. Breathing is good. In. Hold it. Out. In. Hold it. Out. In -- _hold on a minute._

Out in the shadows, something started to move. Someone? They took a step forward. Virgil took one back. The process repeated until a full person could be seen. And… they looked a lot like Virgil. An uncanny resemblance -- a copy. Except this version of Virgil had dark shadows under his eyes. His clothing lacked any sort of color and he looked downright unimpressed.

“It’s funny,” he spoke, but his voice didn’t sound all that human. It carried Virgil’s cadence but with layers in lower octaves, “that this is the one thing you fear the most.” He motioned to himself. “You’re nothing impressive. Nothing about you is threatening. Your friends are a lot more interesting, I think.” He looked out into the shadows as if he could see where everyone was exactly.

Virgil let out a silent breath. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. Here was this doppelganger talking to him as if he already knew what was going on. He wasn’t sure if he should be terrified or confused. Yet he somehow felt both.

The doppelganger continued. “There are so many regrets. It’s almost palpable. Things they wished they could have said, things they wished they didn’t say. There’s so much of it. And it’s honestly ridiculous. Is this how people live their lives? With constant regrets? There’s so much of it in here. Far too many lifetimes.”

What…?

“It doesn’t make any differences to me, though. Whether it’s the childhood Thomas lost, or the family Logan ran away from, it’s all the same.” His eyes turned over to Virgil. “It makes them miserable. I don’t think they like being reminded of it all, and yet it’s funny to watch them squirm.”

Virgil’s fear flew right out the window. This thing was messing with everyone. He spoke about them like they were new toys. “What are you doing to them?” He broke free of his instincts and stepped up to his clone.

He continued to get that unimpressed look. “Do you mind putting that thing away?” He pushed the phone down with a finger. “I’m not exactly partial to the light. And I don’t think you want to anger me.”

Virgil glared at him but did as he asked. As he shoved it into his pocket, it came into contact with something. A pen. He slipped it out without a second thought.

The other Virgil raised a brow.

“What?” He twirled it around his fingers. “It’s just a pen.” He clicked it and the ballpoint tip poked out. He suppressed a smirk. “Am I allowed to have this out or are you not partial to these, either?” He clicked it again to continue twirling it.

The other Virgil scowled. “I could care less.”

“Great.”

“What is it with humans and the need to be insufferable?” He began to pace around Virgil. “You’re all like flies. There are other things that are stronger and better than you, yet you are always everywhere no matter how those things try to get rid of you. Yet in the blink of an eye, you’re gone. And you leave new flies in your place.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “What are you?”

The other Virgil paused for a moment. “There are many names for someone like me. Many have called me a demon, others only think I’m a shadow. I believe you would have known me,” he appeared to think about it, “as the boogeyman.”

Virgil tried to ignore how the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He had no reason to doubt his clone wasn’t telling the truth.

Other Virgil stood right in front of him again. His eyes gazed over every aspect of Virgil’s person. It made him feel oddly exposed. “Why you?”

“I ask myself that every day,” Virgil shot back without thinking.

“I’m well aware.” He eyed Virgil once more, then sneered.

Wow, rude. “Alright, I don’t really care about you or what you think of my kind, but I would like it if you fucked off.”

He quirked a brow. Some semblance of interest crossed his features. “What’s making you so bold?” He took a step toward Virgil. “You’re the timid one. You second guess all your moves and think long before you act.”

Virgil stopped messing with the pen. “Well, for one, you’re wearing my face. So I’ve already lost all respect for you. And you’re messing with my friends. No amount of fear is going to stop me from saving them.”

The other Virgil didn’t respond. He simply stared. Like a cat that observes a moving toy before deciding to pounce.

“Why is it not affecting me?” Virgil had to keep the conversation moving. “If you find me so boring why let me be free from it?”

“How do you know that you are?” A smirk slid across his lips. “What makes you so certain that this is even happening at all?” He walked passed Virgil. “You can’t possibly believe that out of everyone, _you_ were the sole person to be unaffected --” Virgil’s stomach did a flip -- “there's two powerful Magi, another one that can barely hold that title, and a human that’s just better than you in general.”

Alright, this dude was getting the name Anxiety for being an asshole. Also for being scarily accurate to Virgil’s own thoughts.

“If _they_ couldn’t avoid it, how could you? There’s nothing special about you.” Virgil shifted to look at him. “You’re just a human -- and not even a good one. You fail at everything you try to do, and you think you have the ability to save someone? Don’t you think that if it was that easy Logan and Patton would have done it by now?” Anxiety looked Virgil right in the eye. He didn’t seem as intimidating before as he did now. “But they haven’t. So suddenly you think you can do things that not even magical creatures can do.”

“Someone has to,” Virgil mumbled.

Anxiety laughed. A sharp sound that echoed off nonexistent walls. “And that someone is you? Just look at you.” He threw a hand out to emphasize Virgil’s appearance. “Is this what a hero looks like?”

Virgil sunk into his hoodie. It felt too big now. None of his clothes fit right. He was standing out against the shadows. There were eyes looking at him -- judging him. He couldn’t make himself any smaller.

“And look at them.” Anxiety turned around and swept a hand out. As he did so, the shadows seeped away to reveal Virgil’s friends. They looked even more distressed than the last time he saw them. Anxiety glanced back at him. “Think you can fix this? Can you change anything about this at all?”

He…

 _“Can you?”_ Anxiety's voice boomed. His eyes changed -- shadows started to creep into them until they were filled with pitch black. In an almost immediate reaction, the others cried out in various levels of distress. They lowered themselves to the floor with a different reaction to what they saw. Thomas curled in on himself, breath hitching. Roman stayed surprisingly still and silent. Patton’s hands flew to cover his mouth. Logan’s hands curled in his hair with his eyes shut tight.

“Stop it.” It came out at a whisper. “Stop.” He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t look anymore. “Just -- just stop. Why are you doing this?”

Anxiety’s eyes returned to normal. “You think you five were my first choice? I have better things to do with my time than mess around here, but a contract is a contract and I am bound to complete it. No one is happy with this, trust me.” He put his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Contract?” Virgil furrowed his brows. “What contract? For who?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

Virgil ignored how cold his limbs got. This wasn’t ideal. A literal boogeyman had them all trapped because someone wanted him to. What was the right way to go about this?

“But you -- why are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

Anxiety rolled his eyes. “You’re afraid of everything. So why are you here? With them.” He motioned to the others. “I know for a fact that you would rather have your old life back. Even if it meant you never got to meet Thomas. So why do you continue to come back to them?”

“I have to --”

“You have to? You don’t _have_ to do anything. You could very well go on your own way and they wouldn’t do a thing to stop you.” He started walking toward the others. “Is it because you’re scared of them? Of what they can do?” He put his hands on Patton and Logan’s heads. They shuddered in response. “Ooh, if you only knew the secrets they have buried -- you’d be terrified. Would you like to learn some?”

Virgil couldn’t open his mouth.

“Do you want to know how many people Patton has killed? What about what Logan had to do to survive?” Another smirk began to crawl onto his face. “I could tell you all of their darkest fears -- every one of their secrets. I know how much you hate those.” He moved over to Thomas. “What about this one? The little boy who’s still scared of the dark. And we don’t even have time to unpack the mess of that one.” He pointed to Roman. “What do you think? Just because I’m forced to be here doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”

How in the hell was he supposed to respond to that? His friends’ secrets were theirs to keep. If they wanted to say it in their own time then they would. There was no way in hell he’d make that mistake again.

Anxiety crossed his arms. “There’s no way you can lie to me, Virgil. I’m inside your head -- I’m in theirs too. I could tell you what each of them is seeing if you wanted. It’s some juicy stuff if you ask me.”

“I don’t want to know. Keep it to yourself.”

Anxiety gave a mock pout. “Aw, you’re hurting my feelings.” He fell back into his unamused glare. “Face it, Virgil, you don’t want to know because you’re scared of what will happen if you find out. You’d rather be ignorant to their crimes and go on believing that they’re all innocent little angels. Well, they’re not as innocent as they seem.” He moved around Thomas. “You have a right to fear them.” He began walking back over to Virgil.

Virgil held his ground. He couldn’t let himself fall for any of his tricks.

“Do you want to know why Patton and Logan won’t talk about their human friend? What was his name…?” He paused to think about it. “Remy. That’s what they called him, at least. There’s a very good reason they wouldn’t want you to know.”

_“Don’t.”_

“Why?” Anxiety looked personally offended. “You have a right to know. Why would a close friend of theirs suddenly fall off the face of the Earth?” He shrugged. “Personally, I don’t know why Magi like them would even entertain the idea of befriending humans. Seems like tedious work. Especially when they die.” He sucked air through his teeth. “It must hurt even more when it’s your own fault.”

Virgil didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Anxiety continued on anyway. “He was their best friend for such a long time. Right up until the end. Unfortunately, he met that end a little sooner than he should have. He was right around your age actually.” He tapped Virgil’s chest with a finger. “Just something to consider.”

“Do you have a point?” He needed to act like it didn’t matter. Like it didn’t cause millions of questions to stir in his brain or cause his hands to feel clammy.

“Oh, yes, the point.” He smirked. “The reason they wouldn’t want you to know. Well, it’s simple really.” He shrugged again as if the answer should have been obvious. “It’s all their fault. Why would they want you to know about them getting their best friend killed? It’s frowned upon to kill your pets, you know.”

Virgil frowned. “You’re lying to me.”

“Me? Lie?” He put a hand to his chest in offense. “I just told you that I’m inside their heads. I can see everything that they do. And I’m telling you, with full honesty, that Remy is their biggest regret. Emile Picani regrets killing his friend, Remy Magada.”

“You -- I can’t -- no.” Virgil spun around so he wouldn’t have to see him. “I don’t believe you. Picani wouldn’t -- he isn’t capable of that.”

Anxiety appeared in front of him. “What makes you so sure? You barely know him. He’s lived a long life. There’s a lot you don’t know about him -- a lot he wouldn’t want you to know.”

Virgil couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t. He had to turn around again.

“Are you honestly willing to rescue someone who will end up leaving you for dead? He’ll do the same thing to you that he did to Remy. And then he’ll do it to Roman. Do you want to risk that?”

He didn’t want to risk anything.

“Might as well leave now. Running away _is_ what you do best, isn’t it?”

Of course, it was. That’s all he ever did. Maybe it was what he should do now. He wasn’t a fighter. He wasn’t someone who could come to the rescue. He was just a coward. He couldn't do anything. He never should have even come. Why did he think he had a chance? He didn't have any helpful qualities. He should leave -- he had to leave. There was nothing for him here.

He took a step, ready to run away with his tail between his legs, but he noticed something. Thomas. He sat curled in a ball with tears streaming down his face.

_What the hell was he doing?_

Virgil blinked a few times, his mind clearing of the weird fog it found itself in. The voices stopped. Everything urging him to leave -- everything saying he couldn’t do it -- was gone. Those weren’t his own thoughts. He closed his fist around the pen. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What?” Anxiety almost sounded angered.

Virgil turned to face Anxiety, determination set in place. “I’m not leaving. Nothing you say will get me to run away.”

Anxiety scowled. “So what? You’re going to be the hero now? _You?_ Do you honestly think you’re capable of that? Do you think _they’ll_ think of you like one?”

“It doesn’t matter what they think. It matters what I think. And I think I’ve entertained you for too long.”

“Why aren’t you listening to me?” Anxiety’s voice warped further. The angrier he got, the more twisted it became. “You’re just a human! How are you able to ignore me?”

Virgil clicked his pen. This time, a dagger filled his hand. “Because I know when the voices in my head are wrong.” He lurched forward and thrust his dagger into Anxiety’s stomach. “Plus, I kinda hate myself. So maybe using my face wasn’t the best idea.”

He yanked it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is actually only part of the chapter. It was getting pretty long (about 7k words) so I decided to chop out some bits and slap them on over to the next chapter. You'll be getting that soon


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang deals with the aftermath of Anxiety. Thomas has a hard time with some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, sorry for the delay. Finals are coming up and they require too much of my time
> 
> **TW: Mention of child abuse**

The blade, and subsequently the hole in Anxiety’s stomach, turned a dark red. A deep red that could have passed for a human’s blood if something about it wasn’t off. Something made it unnatural to look at.

Anxiety didn’t react beyond a shocked expression. His body began to fizzle out. Like an old TV losing a station. Once he vanished, the shadows in the room curled back to their natural locations. The lighting (or lack thereof) returned to normal.

Virgil skipped out on the celebration to check on everyone. They were still stuck in their trance. He had an odd feeling that he needed to snap them out of it.

Since Thomas was the last one affected, Virgil figured he would be the easiest to fix. And there was absolutely no other reasoning to that. Nope. If anyone said otherwise he’d stab them in the eye with a sewing needle. Whatever the real reason, he ran over and kneeled down.

Tears streamed down Thomas’s face, and his eyes were a deep black. He kept begging for someone to not be dead. He sounded like a scared little boy.

Virgil ignored the pain that sent him and placed a hand on Thomas’s shoulder to shake him. “Kid. C’mon, you have to snap out of it.” He swallowed his rising panic when that didn’t make an improvement. “Thomas!”

Thomas gasped and fell back, his arms coming out to catch himself. He blinked a few times and his eyes returned to normal, then they looked up at Virgil in surprise. “Virgil.” He reached out to touch him. “You’re real.”

“Welcome back.” He smiled a bit.

“It’s dark.”

He fished his phone out of his pocket and shoved it into Thomas’s hands. “Go get Patton and Logan. I’ll handle Roman.” He patted his shoulder then left to go to Roman.

Once Virgil could see him, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He looked lost. No tears streamed down his face. No pain etched onto his features. He was just… broken. That needed to stop. Virgil tried to put a hand on his shoulder as he did with Thomas, but a voice prevented him.

_ “Don’t touch him.” _ It was his dagger (which he decided to name Left. Because, well, y’know). Surprisingly, it took Picani’s voice. That was a new one.

Virgil retracted his hand. “What? Why?”

_ “Look.” _

Virgil did so. He paid careful attention to see what Left did. Then it happened. Roman flinched. Like someone who expected a hand to fly their way. Alright, so no touching then. Wouldn’t want to open those cans of worms right now. But what the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave Roman like this.

_ “You have a voice.” _

Virgil frowned. He didn’t know what to do with that information. How was he supposed to only use his voice? It took him a minute to realize something.

Roman was adopted. It was something he revealed after one of his rare drunken splurges. Now, that exact fact wasn’t important, but what  _ was _ important, was the distinguishing factors Roman made. When referring to the woman that birthed him, he always used “mother”. When referring to the woman that raised him, he used “mom” or “mamá”. And his mom would always sing to him to get him to calm down.

So, with minor embarrassment, Virgil realized he would have to sing if he wanted Roman’s attention. It was for a good cause, at least. He racked his brain for a gentle song and found that “Feed The Birds” was the single song that kept coming to mind. Hopefully, that would get the job done. He took a shaky breath and started in a soft voice,

_ Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul's _ __   
_ The little old bird woman comes _ __   
_ In her own special way to the people, she calls _ _   
_ __ Come, buy my bags full of crumbs

He continued to keep his voice steady and low. The words dripped out in a sweet lull.

Soon, Roman came out of it. He became less stiff and the black in his eyes faded away and focused on Virgil. For a moment, they just stared at each other. “I knew you liked Mary Poppins,” Roman joked. Or rather, tried to. His voice sounded tired and his grin lacked his usual snark.

“Whatever,” Virgil grumbled as he stood up. “Want some help?”

Roman blinked at him. Then held out his hand to allow Virgil to pull him up without a word. They made their way over to the other three, who were trying to break Logan out of it. Patton had his hands around Logan’s wrists, easing them away from his hair.

“I don’t, I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Logan cried. “I’m not a monster.”

“You’re not,” Patton assured. His voice was surprisingly calm. “You haven’t hurt anyone. We’re all here. We’re all fine.”

“But Arlene --”

“No. She’s not here. You’re with me, remember? She’s gone.”

Logan’s eyes shot open and shadows retracted from them. Once he processed where he was he darted up from the ground to turn away from them while wiping at his tears.

“The gang’s all here,” Virgil muttered. He tapped Left so he could put it back in his pocket. This wasn’t the best reunion in the world.

“I think we should go home,” Thomas said quietly. He stared at the floor with an intense frown.

“You’re absolutely right, Thomas.” Patton picked himself up. “We all just need to go home and relax and try to get our minds off what happened.” He seemed more cheery than he should have been.

“I don’t think anyone’s against it,” Roman mumbled.

Virgil grimaced a bit as he surveyed everyone. They were all jittery. Whatever Anxiety showed them -- the regrets, the fears -- wasn’t something they could walk off. Everyone still seemed to have their head in those moments.

“Then let’s leave.” Logan turned back around. His face was unusually stoic -- which was saying something.

No one had anything to comment.

The car ride back was eerily quiet. No one wanted to speak up. The tension might have also been increased by Patton a little bit, but that couldn’t be certain. They were all a little out of it. Virgil felt like he was the most put together at the moment, which didn’t sit right with him. That wasn’t the case under normal circumstances.

“Do you think,” Thomas broke the silence with stiff, uncertain words, “we could have a sleepover in the living room again?”

There was a beat of silence before Patton answered in a voice far too sweet, “Sure thing! That sounds like a good idea. What do you think, Logan?”

“Sure,” Logan murmured. He didn’t speak any further.

Upon arriving at the house, they all decided to get ready for bed. There weren’t any arguments or questions; they all wanted to end this night. When Virgil stepped out of his room, he saw Logan, Patton, and Thomas all sitting in the living room. But no Roman. Odd. Virgil tended to be the last one to these kinds of things. He decided to walk back into the hall. 

Across from Virgil’s room was Roman’s. Without so much as knocking, Virgil pushed the door open. “Roman? Are you --” The rest of his words got caught in his throat.

Roman sat on the bed with one of his pajama pant legs rolled up. A long, faded scar ran across his leg, diagonal to his shin. It must have been from a cut many years ago. Once the shock of someone barging into his room passed, Roman pulled down his pant leg. “Jesus, Virgil, don’t you knock?”

“You never knock when you come into  _ my  _ room,” Virgil shot back defensively on complete impulse.

He sighed in annoyance. “Whatever. Just come in and close the door.”

Virgil did so. He didn’t know if he should sit down or not so he opted to stay where he was.

Roman moved his leg off the bed then gave Virgil a weird look. “You just gonna stand there or?”

“Uh,” Virgil shifted his footing, “you didn’t imply you wanted me to do anything.”

Roman rolled his eyes and scooted over. “Come over here, you awkward nightmare.”

Virgil sat on the bed and brought his legs up to sit criss-cross. He didn’t want to say anything first. He didn’t even know  _ what _ to say. He was afraid he’d ask the wrong question or offend Roman somehow -- which is something he didn’t want to do right now. Not after tonight.

“Sorry for getting mad,” Roman muttered. “You have full permission to come into my room as long as I do it to you.”

“Glad to know we’re even, then.”

A swift silence washed over them.

“So are you gonna ask?”

Virgil forgot how to breathe for a second. “What?”

Roman didn’t look at him. “I know you want to know, but I won’t tell you unless you ask about it.”

“Uh.” Virgil hesitated. He  _ did _ want to know, but he wasn’t sure if he was deserving of that information. The last time someone told him a secret he kind of forced it out of them. “Um, why -- how, uh, how did you get that?”

“It was a gift from my mother,” Roman seemed to choose his words with care. They fell out in a choppy rhythm rather than the usual steady stream he talked with. “I don’t remember much of it. Just that I was young and I learned not to make her mad.”

Mother. The woman that birthed him. He never said much about her other than he hated her and wished he had been separated from her sooner. Now Virgil could see why. That wasn’t something you did to a child.

“I’m sorry.”

Roman waved his hand. “It’s whatever. It happened a long time ago.”

_ But Anxiety made you see it. _

He hopped off the bed. “Let’s go start our sleepover, shall we?” He grinned and held out an arm for Virgil.

Virgil decided not to fight it. Roman pushing away less than awesome feelings was a task to take up for another time. Right now, they all needed a breather. He took Roman’s arm and they set out to the living room.

Patton and Logan sat together on the couch. Much closer than they would have normally, Virgil noticed. Thomas had his legs pulled up onto the armchair with him, eyes studying the coffee table and his mouth in a tight frown. As they left the hall, Virgil flicked the light off and the living room flooded into darkness.

Thomas yelped. “Turn the light back on!”

The urgency in his voice caused Virgil to flip the switch without a second thought. He wasn’t sure how he managed to move so fast.

Thomas let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

_ The little boy who’s still afraid of the dark. _

Virgil didn’t think that Anxiety meant that literally, but then again, he didn’t know how much of Anxiety’s words he could even trust. Despite that, he wondered what could make Thomas still afraid. Sure, everyone was afraid of the dark a little bit, but most people could stand a light switching off for the night. That was a serious phobia issue.

“I know a fun little thing we can do,” Roman’s voice stopped Virgil from delving any deeper into that topic. He crossed his legs onto the sofa cushion. Virgil decided to ignore the intrusion of personal space for now. “Just to calm us down before we sleep.”

“What is it?” Patton asked with a little too much enthusiasm.

“We could do ice breaker questions. Like favorite colors or whatever. It should be a decent distraction.”

“The minute I hear the words ‘ice breaker’ my anxiety goes through the roof and my soul leaves my body,” Virgil replied.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re not being forced to meet anyone new.” Roman paused, eyes glancing toward Virgil for a moment. “You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to.”

Virgil’s brain needed a second to process Roman showing him kindness. It wasn’t often that he showed consideration like this. “I mean -- I don’t -- it’s whatever. You’re right. I’m not in a room with strangers or anything.”

“Why don’t you start, Roman?” Thomas asked.

“Okay, uh,” he thought about it. “If you had to describe yourself using a Disney princess, which one would you be?”

“Merida,” Virgil answered without hesitation.

Roman snorted. “Why Merida?” He sent him a grin.

Virgil pretended that he didn’t feel a swell of pride at getting a genuine smile out of Roman. “It’s obvious. I don’t need a man.”

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes.

“I think I’d be Vanellope,” Thomas answered.

“Why’s that?” Logan looked at Thomas curiously.

“Uh,” he struggled to form a proper sentence.

“Because she’s awesome,” Virgil swooped in. He had a feeling the real reason was because Vanellope was ‘the glitch’. A misunderstood character that everyone considered wrong before her reveal as the princess. “She has a lot of potential and determination. Also, she's a pretty big trouble maker. I think that describes Thomas pretty well."

Thomas sent him a small, grateful smile.

Logan still looked a bit suspicious but didn't ask any further questions.

"I'd be Ariel," Patton said, a wistful smile gracing his face for a brief moment. "And then Logan would be Elsa."

"What?" Logan looked at him incredulously. "What makes you think I'd be Elsa?"

Patton returned the look as if it was obvious. "Do I really need to explain that? Magic that’s kinda hard to control? Being forced to hide it away to save face?"

Logan considered it. "Alright, fine."

"What about you, Roman?" Virgil turned to him.

Roman blinked. "What? Me?" He glanced at everyone in uncertainty. "Uh…"

"Tiana," Thomas answered with no room for debate. "She's a hard worker and a dreamer like you are."

"Plus, she kisses a frog to break a curse because that's how it works in fairytales," Virgil added. "I get the feeling you'd do the same."

"Hey, if I got to marry a handsome prince because of it, I wouldn't complain." Roman smirked.

They continued to ask each other silly, easy questions like that. It turned out to be a pretty good distraction after all. They all asked at least one question -- some of which led to a few long discussions. Roman and Logan even had an argument at one point. Not an intense one, just one of those “why would you answer it that way, this way is obviously the best way to do it” arguments. It brought a sense of normalcy back into their night.

Soon, time started to catch up with them. Their conversations reached a gentle decline until they stopped altogether. It was already approaching one in the morning.

Virgil glanced around the room. Thomas, curled up on the armchair, was fast asleep. So was Roman with his legs in Virgil's lap. Logan appeared to be sleeping against Patton, who was still awake. He looked exhausted though. Unfortunately, Virgil wouldn't be able to let him sleep without one major question answered.

“Patton,” he whispered. He didn't want to wake anyone up. “I know this isn’t the best time, but I have a question.”

“What is it?”

He hesitated. “When that, uh, thing was messing with us, he kind of told me some… information. About an old friend of yours. Uh, Remy?” He took note of the way Patton tensed. “And I just, I kind of -- how did he die?”

Patton floundered for a minute. He seemed unsure of how to answer. Or perhaps he didn't want to.

“Killed in action,” came Logan's low voice.

“Hey, I thought you were sleeping.” He looked down at the sleepy nerd on his shoulder.

“I was getting there,” he sat up slowly, rubbing his eye, “but I heard a topic you might need help on.”

Patton gave him a sad smile.

“So were you even there when he died?”

“No,” he muttered.

Virgil frowned in thought.

“When we got the news, it was devastating.”

“We felt responsible somehow,” Logan continued. “If we could have done something more -- something different -- then maybe he could have made it. But, of course, there was nothing we could have done. It was out of our control.” He pushed his bangs out of his face. Without his glasses, he looked more open -- vulnerable.

“Sometimes, when you lose someone close to you, you feel like it's all your fault.” He coaxed Logan into laying back down. “And it isn't. But it's hard to accept it. Because you want to blame someone. Because they should still be there, but they're not, so what are you supposed to do without them?”

Virgil didn't respond for a moment. So Anxiety  _ was  _ lying. He knew Picani wasn't capable of that. Still, a little part of him continued to be wary. “Why doesn't Thomas know?”

They looked to the sleeping form on the armchair. Patton sighed. “Thomas was so afraid of everything. The dark, strangers, being alone. He never wanted anything to do with Remy because too many strangers in the past tried to take him away from us. By the time he came over these fears, Remy was… no longer available for meetups.”

“Why not tell him?”

“Why let him mourn for someone he never got the chance to meet?” He tried to give a smile, but it quickly fell into a frown. His eyes lingered on Thomas before turning them to Virgil. “Maybe one day, but certainly not right now.”

Virgil nodded.

Patton sighed again, this one more gentle than the heavy bearing ones before it. “You two should be getting some rest. It’s late.” He pulled Logan, who was already drifting back to sleep, closer to him.

“Yeah. Goodnight, guys.”

“G'night, Virgil.”

Virgil found himself in an awkward position because of Roman. He could have pushed his legs off to get into a better position, but that seemed a little cruel. So instead he opted to inconvenience himself. He shifted to be in the crook of the couch. It wasn't the most comfortable place but he'd live. He leaned his head back and put an arm over his eyes. Already, he began to feel sleep weigh on him.

After a few minutes of silence, Virgil heard Logan's groggy voice mumble, “You need sleep too.”

“Of course,” Patton answered, voice gentle, “I'll just be up for a bit.”

“M'not goin’ anywhere.”

“I-I know. I just, I just want to be sure.”

“If that'll make you feel better.”

“Yes. Now go to sleep, Lo.”

~~~

Thomas woke up at five in the morning. He only knew because the clock mocked him; it faced him with its dumb glowing numbers. How dare it. He could have been sleeping more. Instead, he uncurled himself from the armchair. His joints popped and a tingly feeling shot up from his toes. Maybe staying in one position the whole night wasn't the best way to sleep.

He took note of the rest of the people in the room with him. Lucky for them, they got to stay sleeping. Patton stretched against the length of the sofa with Logan on his chest and his arms wrapped around him protectively. Patton's glasses were pushed against the top of his head. How they managed to get themselves into that position was beyond him. Roman and Virgil's legs were tangled together. Somehow, Roman had Virgil's hoodie draped over him like a blanket even though Thomas was pretty sure Virgil didn't take it off. It was cute, though.

Sending a final glare at the clock, Thomas picked himself up and headed toward the bathroom. He didn't bother shutting the door. Everyone else was still asleep so it wasn't as if they would intrude.

He placed his hands on the counter and stared at himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him with tired eyes. For the first time ever, he became all too aware of the long life he's lived. Ninety-four years didn't feel like anything. In the blink of an eye, he was ninety-four. It didn't feel any different than eighty or thirty. He hardly aged during those times. Maybe faster than he should have been, but still not much at all. So the eyes that stared back at him looked as old as they were rather than as young as they looked.

There was so much that they’d seen. Too much, some might say.

He frowned.

Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he stayed with his family. If he and Picani hadn’t been forced to leave, how could have things played out? Would his parents be proud of him? What about his brothers? Would they grow up to be amazing in every way -- would they be masters in their magic types? What would they think of Thomas? Would they look down on him for still not having magic? Would they even care?

He liked to think they were out there somewhere looking for him. He wanted to think it -- needed to. If they were gone… he didn’t even want to consider it. It was his fault. There wasn’t any other way of saying it. It was all his fault. Everything. 

Way back when he was five years old, he made the first of many grave mistakes. He told Terrance that magic was real -- showed him proof. And Terrance went off to tell everyone he knew in his excitement. They were just kids. They didn’t know that anything bad would happen. In a perfect world, nothing  _ would _ have happened. People would have brushed off Terrance’s words as the imagination of a child. Except that wasn't how it went down.

Someone heard about it who shouldn't have. Then they told Altair.

From what Thomas remembers, people broke into the house. There was a lot of commotion. His mother took him away from his brothers and handed him over to Picani. She told them to run. He didn’t know what was happening. There was so much noise. He never got to give a proper goodbye, but they were far away by the time that he realized it. It wasn't until Picani explained things later that Thomas found out it was his fault. No one was supposed to know where his family was. No one should have known they had magic.

Thomas didn't know how Picani couldn't hate him after that. He could have left him somewhere at any point and been done with it. He could have handed him over to one of his parents' friends. But he didn't. He decided to stay. No matter how many times Thomas messed up or hurt him, he always stayed. He always came back. And Thomas couldn't understand that.

He was such a problem -- he caused so many problems. Last night showed him how much trouble he really was. He was faced with every horrible decision he ever made. There were quite a few. He had to watch himself tell Terrance about magic all over again. He felt Picani’s blood on his hands. He caused so much pain. He’s said so many things he didn’t mean, and did so much he couldn’t take back.

“Oh gosh,” Thomas muttered. He wiped his face as tears started to fall. Another thing that was common in the incidents he saw was how much he cried. "I'm such a baby." He needed to stop crying so much.

"Thomas?"

Thomas froze. He saw Logan squinting at him from the mirror. Whether it was from sleepiness or lack of glasses was debatable. 

"What are you doing up?"

"I-I, uh," he hurried to wipe his eyes, "what are  _ you _ doing up?"

"I wanted to get water, but then I saw you in here." He stepped into the room. "Are you okay?"

He sighed. "I don't know."

"Ugh, feelings." Logan leaned against the wall. He could still be seen in the reflection of the mirror.

Thomas couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I know. They're pretty bad sometimes."

"Tell me about it." He paused. "If Patton heard us talking like that we'd probably get a whole lecture saying the opposite."

There was no argument there. "Speaking of Patton, how'd you get out of the death grip he had on you?"

"Very carefully."

Thomas snorted. "That was such a teacher answer."

"I wouldn't know."

"You went to college."

"That's hardly the same thing."

Perhaps not. Thomas wouldn't know. He's never been -- not yet at least. Still, he couldn't let go of a thought he had. In truth, it had been plaguing him since last night. "Logan, have you ever…" He didn't know how to word it without raising any alarms.

"Ever what?" Logan's brows knitted together.

There wasn’t an easy way to say it. “Why have you and Patton stayed with me so long?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he sighed, “why didn’t you ever give me up? You had plenty of opportunities to.”

“Why would we ever want to give you up?” Logan seemed genuinely confused by the question. “What reasoning would we have for that?”

Thomas found himself getting frustrated. Not at Logan or at himself or even at anything, really. It built up inside of him because it needed to. Because he spent so long being told that he was a mistake except by the one person who had every right to. “I’m the reason we’re even here right now. I’m the reason we had to run away -- I’m the reason you lost your magic.” He buried his face in his hands. “I cause a lot of bad things to happen.”

“Well, let’s get at least one of those things straight.” He pushed himself off the wall to join Thomas at the sink. “You didn’t make me lose my magic. I made a brash decision that came with undesirable consequences, that wasn’t any of your doing. We were supposed to get you and then leave, but what happened wasn’t because of you. It was something that happened all on its own -- spurred by a decision that I made. It had nothing to do with you.

“I can’t say that you’re not partially responsible for us having to run, but it isn’t your fault. You were only a child, Thomas, you had no idea that anything would have happened. As far as you knew, you were just telling your friend about your family. Neither of you explicitly told anyone to come after us. It was a rather unfortunate series of events. The wrong thing said at the wrong time. There was no way to predict anything would happen.”

Thomas frowned. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” He gave him a tiny smile. “Stopping at every crack in the road isn't going to get you where you need to be. Things happen whether we want them to or not, but no matter what you think you’ve done, you’ll always be our favorite person in the whole wide world.”

Oh gosh. Now Thomas was going to cry for a different reason. That’s something Picani would always say to him when he was younger. “Thanks.”

Logan’s smile widened for a fraction of a second before returning to a more subtle one. “We should get back. All hell might break loose if Patton wakes up and sees that we’re gone.”

Thomas didn’t doubt that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this made me realize that I need more fics where Logan and Thomas are friends


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the past is hard to let go. Oh, and Virgil almost kills a man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During editing, I decided to rearrange some scenes at the last minute. It took a lot more time than I expected it would
> 
> **TW: Vomiting, child abuse mention**

So things weren’t all that normal the next day. Or the next after that. Or even the next one after that. Turned out having your worst fears and regrets dug up out of your buried memories box wasn’t the best thing in the world. Being subjected to them as if they happened again (without the option of changing anything) didn’t help all that much, either. How was it possible to be normal after that?

When every loud noise caused Roman to jump and Logan to freeze, or when the sun went down and Thomas had to turn on every light around him, or when Patton needed to make sure everyone was where they said they were more than once, it became clear it wouldn't be easy to act as if nothing had happened. No matter how hard they tried to.

Virgil felt as if he was grasping at straws trying to keep everyone together. They were all nervous and snappy. Patton almost punched him in the face once because he accidentally snuck up on him. It was an, uh, experience so to speak. Virgil was sure his life flashed before his eyes. He learned to be a little more cautious with everyone after that. There were at least two people who could kill him on the spot and one person who could for sure deal some damage. He didn’t want to be at the receiving end of any of those outcomes.

It was around lunch time when Virgil noticed someone was missing. He counted heads twice to see if maybe he was wrong, but it was true. There were only three other people. He looked at faces and realized it was Patton. Which was odd. Patton hadn’t tried to leave the house nor did he show interest in doing so. He wanted to keep a close eye on everyone. Yet when Virgil looked, Patton wasn’t anywhere inside. Of course, that didn't mean he left.

Virgil slipped on some shoes and walked out toward the backyard. He continued to walk past the fence, tracing over familiar steps to a place he had been several times. A structured path was starting to form from how often and how many feet have passed over this specific ground. He soon came upon a clearing. An old door sat against one of the few trees with a hole punched through it.

At first, he didn’t see Patton. Part of him was about to set panic mode into overdrive, but he happened to hear something. Or rather, someone. Patton was softly singing from… the tree. He sat atop a branch with his feet swishing back and forth every so often. It didn’t seem as if he noticed Virgil quite yet. He faced away from the clearing -- toward the wilderness of the mountain. The words of “Everything Stays” flitted out in a low whisper.

Virgil waited for the last few lyrics to be sung before deciding to make his presence known. “Uh, hey, Pat?” He walked up to the base of the tree.

“Oh! Virgil.” He covered his eyes before Virgil could see his face. His hand moved along the branch. “Didn’t hear you walk up.”

“I noticed.” He watched with mild fascination as Patton took extra care to put his glasses on a certain way. It occurred to him that he had never seen Patton without glasses before, but thought nothing of it. It didn’t make much of a difference. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing much. Just needed some fresh air, I guess.” He smiled down at Virgil with his glasses now in place.

Virgil knew something was off right away. “Do you mind if I join you?” He wasn’t afraid -- well, yeah, he was a bit afraid of heights. He was a little bit afraid of everything, but that also meant he didn’t have large amounts of fear in any one thing. Jack of all fears, phobia in none.

"Oh, uh, sure. You can come up if you want." Patton moved over a bit to make some room.

Virgil swallowed the nervousness building inside him and climbed up the tree. He hadn't done so in many years. The last time he ever did it, he ended up with a fractured finger when he was nine. Somehow, that ended up being the only injury he sustained. He sat next to Patton and took extra care to not look down. "So what's up? And don't give me any dad jokes."

"Darn." Patton swung his arm to express sarcastic displeasure. "What's the point of having kids if you can't even say dad jokes?"

Virgil rolled his eyes. "I'm almost thirty."

"And Thomas is almost a hundred. You're both children."

Alright. He should have expected that. Instead, he shook his head to go about the question a different way. "Why are you out here?"

Patton shrugged. "Hadn't been outside in a while. I just… I just needed to feel at home, I guess."

Virgil wasn't sure how to respond. Maybe there wasn't a proper way to.

A tiny silence hovered between them before Patton decided to break it. “I knew a girl once,” he peered down at his swinging feet, “way before I even met Logan. I must have been -- gosh -- maybe six. She was ten, maybe nine. And we were really close. My brother and I would always look forward to hanging out with her. She was lovely.” A sad smile flickered across his face. “She knew what we were and that we had magic. But she wasn’t afraid or disgusted. It was the first experience I ever had with a human. I thought they were all that way.”

He looked up at Virgil. Virgil found he couldn’t speak. There had to be a point to this, and with the way it was going, he sensed it wouldn’t be a happy one.

"My brother tried to tell me that they weren't. They were dangerous. She was the only exception. I didn't really take it seriously until it was too late." He put his hands in his lap and stared at them. "I did magic a bit too close to her village once. The people saw it, they thought it was her, and I never saw her again. She didn't even defend herself. She let everyone believe it was her so they wouldn't go looking for me." He fidgeted with his fingers. "I promised myself after that that I wouldn't let anyone danger themselves to protect me.

"But then Arlene came along and Logan --" He clenched his jaw. Virgil felt pain and anger all at once. "So I tried to make another promise. That I'd never let anything happen to Logan again. I haven't been very good at keeping it. I don’t think I’ve ever been very good at protecting people I care about."

Virgil frowned. “What makes you think that?”

“My success rate isn’t very high.” He started picking at the tree bark. “I had to watch myself fail over and over again when we were with that _efiora_ _. _ I hated it. I hated not being able to do anything and I hated to be reminded of it.” He stopped and looked back up at Virgil. “I guess the only thing I can do now is to make sure nothing worse happens.”

A weight fell down onto Virgil’s shoulders. It pressed onto his back like a heavy bag. He should say something. He needed to tell Patton. He had -- “Right.” He couldn’t. He knew he had to, but he couldn’t. It might’ve been dumb not to, but he couldn’t add any more bad news.

Patton sighed. “Well -- anyway,” he brought up a little smile, “I feel like making some cookies. Wanna help?”

The next day, Roman woke up the same way he had been for the past few days. That is to say, he didn’t sleep at all. Maybe he got an hour or so in last night, but not much either way. Upon deciding that he wouldn’t get any more than that, he created a cocoon of blankets and edited some photos. He waited until it was a reasonable time before shutting his laptop and leaving his room.

Then he went about the same way he always did. He tried to act like he had a normal amount of sleep and that he wasn’t hurting. Not that he’d admit he was, but even _he_ couldn’t hide from the truth. He hurt. Every aspect of being alive and walking around hurt in some way. He felt bruises and heard sharp words as if it all happened yesterday. As if his mother came back and did every single thing she had done when he was a child.

He never liked to think about it. Whenever someone asked about his childhood, he only ever mentioned from the age he was adopted onward. And he made himself sound like everybody else. He had a mom, and a dad, and several siblings. They did the same thing any other family did. They were nice. They were normal.

Now that he thought about it, very few people knew more than the basic details about his family. One of them was Virgil, actually. He told Virgil a lot of things about them that he’d never think about telling anyone else. He admitted that all his siblings were adopted as well. Growing up, there were so many languages and cultures going around because his parents didn’t want anyone to forget who they were. Their ethnicity meant something and it wasn’t going to be taken away just because they were in an adoptive family.

It led to one of Roman’s greatest tricks: knowing five languages. He was fluent in both English and Spanish, knew basic pleasantries in Mandarin, could have a simple conversation in Tagalog, and knew a plethora of curse words in Arabic.

“You know Tagalog?” Virgil had said once he found out.  _ “I _ don’t even know Tagalog.”

Roman offered to teach him what he knew. They never had a chance to work on it.

So having the short years with his mother come back was like a (proverbial) slap in the face. He didn’t think he’d ever revisit them. And why would he? As far as he or anyone else was concerned, his childhood started with the family that loved him rather than the woman who hated his existence. He never understood why she kept him if she never bothered to try loving him.

But other than that he was great. Everything was fine. He would push through the same way he always did. It would pass eventually. And then he’d be able to catch up on some missed beauty rest. Not that he needed it -- because he didn’t. No matter how much that little voice tried to tell him otherwise.

“Um, you guys okay in here?” To say that Roman expected this specific scene in the kitchen on his late afternoon would be a lie.

Patton sat perched on the counter like a frightened cat while Virgil gazed at the floor with disinterest. He had his arms crossed with his hands holding a cup and a ripped off piece of cardboard from some sort of food container.

“I saw a spider and Virgil refused to kill it so now it’s missing,” Patton answered.

“I’m not going to kill it -- they’re helpful.”

“It would be a lot easier if you killed it.”

Roman had a hard time understanding them sometimes. They were an interesting pair, to say the least. “So you’re just going to stay there in the hopes that it goes away?”

“I am not stepping down until I’m sure that it’s gone.” Patton’s tone was finalizing. Well, that was that. “So I’m gonna need you to go get Thomas and Logan for me.”

Ugh, responsibilities. “What? Where’d they go?”

“Logan decided to do some training and Thomas went with him. They’ve been up there for a while --” Patton cut himself off with a squeak. “It’s right there!”

“Hm? Oh.” Virgil took his time wandering over to where it must have been.

Roman decided to leave all that commotion behind. He walked right outside without any hesitation. When he got there, he saw Thomas sitting on a log with a pensive expression and in just enough time to see Logan get tossed to the ground with both dummies pointing their swords at him. He groaned in annoyance and dropped his head back. That was certainly a sight.

“What’s going up with him?” Roman whispered as he snuck around to sit by Thomas. He didn’t think he’d ever see Logan lose.

“He’s been at it for a while,” Thomas responded without taking his eyes off Logan. “He keeps trying things at a more difficult setting, but he can’t get past this one. I think it’s starting to make him angry.”

Logan rolled out of the way and pulled himself up. He dusted himself off before picking up his sword.

“You doing okay, bud?” Thomas asked.

“Fine.” He didn’t seem very keen on expanding his answer further.

Thomas frowned but didn’t ask anything else.

The two watched him go again. And again. And again. Each time Logan got a little closer, but would still lose at the last minute. He would be taken down or cornered, and after he’d say one more time. Which wasn’t true. It became several more times.

Roman noticed something odd. There were moments where Logan would stutter or stop as if expecting something to happen. From the position of a skilled swordsman, it didn’t make much sense to do that. Yet it happened whenever he was in a tough position. It then occurred to Roman that there was a point. Logan was trying to use magic. There were subtle movements that he did -- almost as if they were instinctual -- that were followed by a rush to regain lost time when nothing happened.

After every failure, Logan became more and more ticked off. To the point where it became obvious he was only doing this to prove something. Prove what, Roman didn’t know, but he saw Thomas get increasingly agitated as it continued.

Once one of the dummies managed to cut Logan’s arm, Thomas stood up. “Objective complete,” he commanded.

The dummies stopped and returned to piles of sticks.

Logan huffed in annoyance. “What are you doing, Thomas?” He turned to face the two onlookers.

Thomas and Roman gave each other a worried glance. “You need to stop,” Thomas continued. “It’s okay that you can’t do this.”

“I can.” Logan scowled. “I’ve been doing this for more than a hundred years.” He noticed the blood beginning to drip from his cut and managed to appear even more displeased. “This should be easy.”

“Maybe when you had your magic,” Roman mentioned. “You’ve never had to fight without it, right?”

“My magic isn’t some handicap.” Logan stabbed his sword into the ground.

Thomas grimaced. “He has a point, Logan. You’ve never had to fight without magic and that’s fine. It makes things a bit different than you’re used to.”

Logan put his hand over his cut and turned his back on them. “That doesn’t mean I can’t do it. Sword fighting has nothing to do with magic at all.”

“But you’ve always had it in your veins. It’s your instinct to rely on it when you need it, isn’t it?”

Logan didn’t respond to that. “Start up.” The wood piles sprung to life.

“You’re acting like a kid, Logan.” Slight frustration edged in Thomas’s voice. “Just take a break. This is something you can’t do.”

“You’re wrong.”

Roman noticed that Thomas looked offended for a moment. He wanted to speak up but didn’t know what to say to defuse this escalating situation.

“I’m not,” Thomas insisted. “You’re just not seeing from an outside point of view -- you’re being stubborn.” He sighed and eased away the tension in his shoulders. “It’s okay to give up, Logan. Sometimes you just need to sit out.”

Logan whipped around, fury in his features. “Why can’t you just let me do this for you, Patton?” The moment the words escaped his lips, his eyes widened in shock. All previous anger vanished as if it was never there in the first place.

Roman and Thomas stared at him with just as much shock. Neither of them knew what to say to that.

“I…” Logan took a small step back. “I didn’t mean -- I don’t -- I just --” He sighed, dropping all defenses. “I can’t exactly lie out of this, can I?” He lowered his gaze to the ground.

The other two shared another glance.

“Did I remind you of someone?” Thomas asked tentatively.

Logan laughed, but it held no humor. “You can say that.” He dropped his hand and looked at it. There was a streak of blood on his palm. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard those words.”

“Patton said that to you?” Roman asked in disbelief. He never thought Patton would want to do anything without Logan.

He looked back up. “It was a long time ago -- I shouldn’t even be focusing on that.” He wandered over to the log and sat down.

“What happened?” Thomas sat down beside him.

Logan hesitated before deciding to explain. “Back when we first started fighting against Altair, Patton and I were rarely Picani. He was afraid that I couldn’t handle it, and past paranoia made him fear that someone would find out what we were and force us to unfuse.” He grimaced. “It’s unpleasant and leaves wounds that don’t quite heal -- physically and mentally.” He placed his hand on his chest for a brief moment. “But that’s beside the point. The point is, Patton refused to let me fight at all.

“As you know, his body is full of healing magic. He can heal a papercut in the blink of an eye.” Logan frowned at his own cut. “Compared to him I was a fragile creature in constant need of his help. His biggest fear was me getting hurt. Whenever we needed to fight, we unfused and Patton went while I stayed behind. I wanted to join -- I knew it would be better if we were together -- but he wouldn’t let me.

“Patton grew up learning how to fight. Your parents, Thomas, had been fighting for centuries. I was the weakest out of all of them.” He closed his eyes. “But I knew they needed me. Patton isn’t an attacker -- he’s a defender. If I could just get Patton to see that I could protect myself, then maybe we could form Picani and provide better support.”

He opened his eyes and stared at the ground. “So I asked your parents to help me train. I had never fought with weapons before. I barely even knew how to fight with magic. But I got better. I tried everything I could to prove that I could do it. Yet no matter how hard I trained or how much I argued, Patton still wouldn’t let me go. He said I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t strong enough.”

He frowned. “He never let me try. All I wanted to do was prove that I could fight, but he never gave me a chance. Every time, it was the same answer. It would be better if I stayed out. He thought I couldn’t handle it.”

There was a beat of silence before Thomas asked, “So then how did you convince him?”

Logan relaxed a bit. A tiny smile came on his face as he turned to Thomas. “Your mother.” Thomas’s eyes widened. “She saw how hard I was trying and decided to give me a chance. She found something I could do on my own behind Patton’s back -- just so I could prove that I wasn’t as weak as he thought.”

“How did that go?” Roman asked.

“It was the first thing I ever successfully did on my own.” Logan smiled to himself. “I ended up doing a few more before Patton found out, and it’s safe to say he wasn’t all that happy about it at the time.”

“Sorry,” Thomas mumbled. “For making you think you weren’t strong enough -- for  _ Patton  _ thinking you weren’t strong enough.”

Logan stared at him in surprise before turning it into a small smile. “Well, you were right, in a way. My body isn’t the same without magic. I can’t do everything I used to. So…  _ I’m _ sorry. For yelling and making a big deal out of nothing.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say  _ nothing _ .” Thomas nudged him with his shoulder. “But I get what you’re saying.” He jumped up and extended a hand toward Logan. “We should get back and have Patton heal your cut.”

~~~

To say that Virgil was a little pissed off was an understatement. 

He was having a pretty good day at work. Things were running smoothly, people were being nice to him, it was going well. He should have known that it wouldn’t last. The minute that  _ he _ walked in Virgil had an instant need to break his nose. He sauntered up to the counter with that irritating smirk.

“So?” He asked without a care in the world. As if he didn’t send Virgil and his friends walking into a trap just the other day. “Where’s my ending?”

Oh, Virgil would give him an ending alright. He exited the bar and swooped around to grab the Theorist by the shirt collar. Not taking any objections, he started dragging him to the back room. Roman trailed after them, albeit a bit confused about the whole thing.

Once the door shut, Virgil slammed the Theorist into it.

Roman jumped. “Virgil!”

“Woah!” The Theorist held his hands up in surrender. “What is happening right now?”

“You were the one with the contract weren’t you?” Virgil reached into his pocket but kept at least one hand clutching the Theorist’s shirt. “You did this.”

The Theorist furrowed his brows. “What are you --?”

Virgil held the dagger up to his throat. “Don’t try to lie out of it.”

“Virge.” Roman stared at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The Theorist kept his hands up. “I don’t know anything about a contract. I didn’t do anything.”

“How the hell am I supposed to believe you?” Virgil pressed the dagger closer. “You tricked us.”

The Theorist’s eyes flicked down to it before moving back up to Virgil. “What do you mean? I didn’t. I told you exactly where Altair would be. I have no reason to lie about that.”

“We didn’t find him there.”

The Theorist cringed. “Ooh, we’re in a bad timeline, then.”

Virgil scowled at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Listen, the future isn’t set in stone, alright?” He glanced between Roman and Virgil. “It’s impossible to determine which path is the right one. I took a risk telling you --”

_ “You _ took a risk?” Virgil was about two seconds away from lodging his dagger into this dude’s throat.

The Theorist frowned a bit, clearly well aware of how much danger he was in. “Do you happen to know the butterfly effect?”

“The idea that one tiny detail can cause something bigger to happen later on?” Roman crossed his arms and looked at the Theorist with intrigue.

“That’s the basics of it, yes.” The Theorist gave him a proud smile, but it fell once he noticed Virgil continuing to scowl at him. “It’s really a lot more complicated than that, but let’s look at it through that lens. The moment I made a decision to tell you I spurred a chain of events that eventually led to what happened with you. One minuscule detail that triggers a bigger impact.”

“How is this supposed to stop me from hurting you?” Virgil wouldn't hesitate to bring the dagger any closer. As far as he was concerned, this man was responsible for his friends seeing their most traumatizing moments. There wasn't any way he was going to get off easy.

“I’m just trying to prove I didn’t do anything.” The Theorist's frown deepened. “The future is tricky. Much like the butterfly effect, something that seems unimportant now can make something disastrous happen later. Not even someone like me can know what will happen with a hundred percent certainty.”

“What made you think Altair would be there in the first place?” Roman asked. He sounded a lot more gentle and friendlier than Virgil.

“I saw it.”

“What do you mean you saw it?” Virgil narrowed his eyes.

The Theorist looked right at Virgil. “All it takes is a touch. Just one little brush of the hands to catch a glimpse of someone’s timeline. I saw your past, I saw the possibilities of your future. Not enough to pick out details, but enough to get information. You didn’t exactly give me your consent, after all.”

“That doesn’t make me trust you any more.” Virgil kept his dagger in place. “How am I supposed to know you aren’t lying?”

Rather than frowning further, the Theorist seemed a bit annoyed. He sighed and before Virgil could hear,  _ “watch out” _ in Patton’s voice, a hand seized his wrist.

In a matter of seconds, Virgil started to see images. Fast-paced pictures that came one right after the other. At first, his brain couldn’t keep up. They were moving too fast to understand. It wasn’t until he realized they weren't pictures, but _scenes,_ that he was able to process them a bit better. Still, they moved too fast to decipher as they happened. By the time it switched, he had a vague idea of what went on in the previous scene.

There were moments he recognized -- graduating high school, his mom’s second wedding -- and moments he didn’t. Moments that never happened. There was Altair where he was meant to be -- at the old store -- he was there a few different times. There were also many times where he wasn’t. Of the times where he wasn’t, Anxiety appeared only a couple of times. Something else happened in the others. And then he saw past that. Somehow, he could comprehend it even less.

It seemed to move faster. Every scene flashed before him in quick succession. Like someone pressing the fast-forward button on an old videotape. He recognized the shapes, and had a vague idea of the story, but pieces were missing. Important points that he couldn’t quite make out. It was kind of terrifying. He saw… he saw Logan die. Multiple times, but always the same way. They lose. In so many different ways, they don’t win against Altair. They were all horrifying.

Then it stopped.

In a dizzying flash of light, Virgil was back in the room. He backed away from the Theorist and the dagger slipped from his hand. He swore he could see stars in front of his eyes. “What the hell was that?” He put his hands on the sides of his head. It was pounding.

“A peek into your timeline,” the Theorist groaned. He rubbed the front of his forehead with his palm.

“That was a peek?!” Virgil immediately regretted yelling. That made everything worse. “Ugh, it feels like I have a hangover and a migraine at the same time.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t feel pleasant.” He dropped his hand and gave his full attention to Virgil. “Not everyone was meant to peer into time. You’re lucky you only have a headache.”

He was going to be sick. He was going to throw up all over the stupid floor because he was Rose Tyler gazing into the heart of the TARDIS. It hurt so much.

“Do you believe me now?”

Roman put a hand on Virgil’s back. “Yeah, I believe you,” Virgil grumbled. “I saw it.” He dropped his hands, but couldn’t manage to pick his gaze off the floor.

“Then you know it wasn’t me. I never made any kind of contract with anyone. Trust me, I wouldn’t ever be on Altair’s side. The guy’s a maniac. He’d set the world on fire and call it mercy.”

Roman and Virgil exchanged a wary glance. “Thanks for trying to help,” Roman said. “Even if it didn’t quite work out as it should have.”

The Theorist gave a tiny smile. “If there’s anything else I can do, just let me know. I’m always around if you need information.”

Virgil ended up having to go home early after that. He physically couldn’t stand to be at the bar anymore. It took him almost throwing up two times to decide he needed to leave. The loud noises and the smell of alcohol was a bit too much at the moment. He must have looked like shit, too, because none of his co-workers argued against him leaving. In fact, they encouraged him to.

So Roman took him home. It was already past eleven by the time that they got there which meant the living room was empty except for Thomas. He was sitting on the couch watching John Mulaney but stopped to look at the newcomers with confusion. Virgil gave him a pathetic two-fingered salute before slinking away to his room. He heard Roman explain how he wasn’t feeling well.

Virgil didn’t bother with anything. He fell face first onto his bed and groaned into the pillow. It hurt less to be in complete darkness but he still felt like dying. A hammer was being whacked against all sides of his skull. It wasn’t pleasant. He figured he’d either need to sleep forever or know the sweet release of death to get his head to stop hurting. But since no one would be willing to kill him and it wasn’t possible to sleep the rest of his life away, the next best thing would be taking some Advil and calling it a night.

If he could manage to get himself out of bed, that is. He didn’t know if he’d be able to move again. It hurt to do anything. Maybe he should stay and accept death as it came to him. That would make things easier. Even  _ thinking _ about moving was torturous.

Oh, God.

It didn’t seem as if he had a choice. He shot up from the bed and ran straight into the bathroom with just enough time to aim for the toilet bowl. Then out came whatever still happened to be sitting in his stomach. All the sudden movements made his head hurt more which, to his dismay, caused him to vomit more. It wasn’t ideal and it made him crave death more than ever.

He was spitting out the foul taste by the time someone walked in. He spared a glance to see Roman standing at the doorway. “Hey,” he croaked out.

“You look great,” Roman commented.

Virgil wasn’t sure if it was the splitting headache or what, but he was pretty sure he could see Roman looking at him in concern. “Oh, yeah, I feel wonderful.” He wiped his mouth. “If I ever try to doubt a Seer again, just punch me right in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He flushed away the gross contents of his stomach and sat back on his legs. His throat burned.

“Would you like to get off the floor?” Roman raised a brow.

“Nah, I think I’ll stay here for a minute.” He didn’t think he could handle moving right now. What he didn’t expect, was for Roman to step in and join him. “What are you doing?”

“I came to check up on you so I don’t feel like I should leave until you’re back in your room.” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t want you dying or anything, even though that would solve a lot of my problems. Thomas might get all sad about it.”

Virgil would roll his eyes if he could. “You’re so considerate.”

“I know.”

A brief moment of silence fell.

Roman kept his gaze on the ground. “When he showed you your timeline... what, what did you see?”

“Uh…” Virgil couldn’t say it. He didn’t think he ever would. No one else needed to know that the most likely outcome would end up with Logan dead, Patton gone, and Thomas missing. Roman didn’t need to know that if they failed, they’d be on the run for the rest of their lives. Because in those short few seconds, he saw that most of the possible time streams went that way. They had such a small chance. “Just what could have happened. If we found Altair there or not.”

Roman hummed.

“I-I think I’m gonna head off to bed now.” He tried to lift himself to his feet using the sink counter as support.

“Oh, sure." Roman seemed confused at the sudden change. "You need any help?”

“I’m good.”

He wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note: I made some VERY minor changes to Logan and Patton's appearance in the earlier chapters (it isn't all that important or anything I just thought I should inform you guys). I didn't know what I wanted any of the boys to look like until fairly recently. So that's another lesson for you kids: know what your characters look like before you start writing


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan realizes that it's a lot harder to be strong when you're faced with your worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I had to chop off the ending of this chapter to paste it onto the next one. Once again. Because this chapter is already super long and I didn't really want it to get so big, but oh well. Enjoy the longest chapter of any story I've ever written.
> 
> **TW: Implied past abuse, choking/suffocating, vague mentions of self-harm**

Okay. So maybe things got a little out of control. And maybe that was Virgil’s fault, but… yeah, he didn’t have much of a defense for that. He took it upon himself to help everyone out and considered himself responsible for them. He was the only one unaffected by Anxiety -- he needed to be the voice of reason. Sure, under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be, but who else would do it?

Tensions got a little high over the last few days. Patton and Logan argued a lot more than usual. Sometimes over things that didn’t quite need an argument. Roman tended to avoid the room when that happened. Thomas would sit in silence until it passed. Which left Virgil floundering between wanting to act and wanting to wait it out. He didn’t want them to argue so much. Especially since they were arguments that didn’t mean anything. He didn’t want them to say anything they might regret over something dumb.

He knew first hand how damaging that could be.

Nevertheless, this all led up to a rather big deal one day. It was one Virgil hoped wouldn’t ever come, but knew would happen eventually. Like all issues, if no one intervened then it would continue to fester. It was just a matter of time before the pot boiled over. And, in this scenario, Virgil was the idiot chef who let the pot get there in the first place.

Roman, Virgil, and Thomas sat in the living room while Patton and Logan argued in the kitchen. Virgil fidgeted on the couch, Thomas spared anxious glances at them from his armchair, and Roman did his best to ignore it all. But in truth, none of them could ignore it. Their voices steadily grew louder and louder until the TV became background noise. They never argued like this before.

"Just listen to me, for once!" Then a loud crash. Something shattered.

The three snapped their heads to the kitchen. They saw Patton slowly raise his hands to his mouth in shock. Logan stared at him, eyes wide and terrified.  _ Terrified. _ As if Patton was capable of hurting him. He hurried out of the room. Patton didn't stop him.

Thomas unfurled himself from the armchair to make his way over to Patton. But no sooner did he open his mouth did Patton speak to him.

"Go check on Logan." His hands had yet to move from his mouth.

"Why can't you do it?" His voice was small. A genuine question rather than a complaint.

"I can't.” He closed his eyes. “He won't want to see me. Just go check on him. Please. He needs someone."

Thomas hesitated, visibly torn between two options, before doing as Patton asked.

Roman and Virgil shared a confused glance. Roman shrugged, an answer to an unspoken question between them. So Virgil stood up. The closer he got to Patton, the more his chest crushed with guilt. The more the world pushed down on his shoulders. He managed to sit down at the breakfast bar despite the weight hanging off of him.

“Should I even ask what happened?” Virgil asked in a soft voice. He didn’t think he could manage to raise it any higher.

Patton opened his eyes and dropped his hands. “I messed up. I should’ve stayed calm, but I, I couldn’t. I let my anger get the best of me. I’ve never -- I don’t know why.” He leaned over the breakfast bar.

Virgil tried to blink away the tears filling his eyes faster than he thought they could.

“I don’t get angry like that. I don’t know why I couldn’t control it.”

“I think we’ve all been feeling a little punchy since the… incident. It’s not your fault.” He wiped his eyes. “We just need to step back and take a breather.”

Patton looked at the floor. “I should clean this up.” Pieces of a broken plate were scattered along the tile.

“Did you break it?” Roman’s voice whispered from beside Virgil.

“Yes. I-I don’t know why. It was just on the counter and I was frustrated and I --” he buried his face in his hands, which pushed up his glasses. “Did you see how he looked at me? I scared him. I could feel it -- he was afraid of me. I made him afraid of me.”

Tears fell down Virgil’s cheeks in a steady stream. He hadn’t cried this hard before or felt such sorrow in his chest. It hurt. It hurt so much and the pain wasn’t even his.

“You’ve never… hit him before. Have you?” Despite the tears, Roman managed to look concerned. Maybe even a little scared himself.

“No!” Patton dropped his hands, glasses falling in place, and looked at them with wide eyes. His cheeks glistened with tears. “No, I would never.” He frowned back down at the broken plate. “But I guess it doesn’t really seem that way, does it? I promise I never have. This is the first time I’ve ever done something like this.”

“It just kinda seemed like…”

“Like he expected me to hit him?” Patton spared a glance up at them. Somehow, the weight on Virgil’s shoulders became heavier. “Maybe he did. I don’t think I stirred up any pleasant memories.”

Roman stiffened.

Virgil took note of it but decided it wouldn’t be the best time to bring it up. “I’ll help you clean up, Pat.” He didn’t leave any room for arguments.

After that, Virgil didn’t see Logan. Not until much later.

Virgil had managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time for once. He spent a good portion of the day engulfed in guilt and tears trying to calm Patton down. The crying stopped eventually but the guilt didn't go away. It was so heavy for a feeling that wasn't even his. It weighed down his chest and clung to him like an annoying bug that wouldn't go away. So yeah he was kind of exhausted.

He woke up because he needed water. Which is always the worst way to wake up. Before rolling out of bed to quench the dry desert that was his mouth, he checked the time on his phone. Two in the morning. Wonderful.

That wasn't annoying at all.

He shuffled out the door and was confused to see light. His first thought was Thomas, but even if it  _ was _ him, it would be brighter. This seemed like it was coming from the TV alone. Who else would it be? Roman didn't ever leave his room at night, and Patton and Logan could barely stay up past midnight. It still had to be one of them. Unless someone broke in to watch TV for the night.

Deciding that was a slim but possible scenario to Virgil's sleepy brain, he tip-toed down the hall. It became clear soon enough that there wasn't anything to worry about. At least not in an intruder sense. Logan sat with his legs pulled onto the sofa, his glasses perched on his nose and his head resting on his knees.

"Are you watching Beetlejuice?" Virgil whispered. He didn't know why that was the one detail his brain latched on to. It was two AM and he woke up a minute ago. Don't judge him.

Logan lifted his head to look in Virgil's direction. "It happened to be on," he whispered right back. "What are you doing up?"

"I came to get water," he shuffled into the kitchen, "but now I think I might stay for Beetlejuice." He poured himself a glass of water before making his way to the armchair. He didn't miss much. Barbara and Adam just discovered  _ The Handbook for the Recently Deceased. _ "I didn't think this would be the kind of movie you were into."

"I find it charming." Logan put his head back down. "The character designs are interesting and the story is unique."

Yeah, it was pretty great. Plus the music was by Danny Elfman. That always made movies twenty times better. "I used to watch this all the time when I was a kid." He stared down into the glass, swirling the water a bit. "That, and The Nightmare Before Christmas. I think I had both of them memorized at one point."

"What about Edward Scissorhands?"

Virgil almost choked on his water in an attempt to respond fast enough. "That one actually scared me -- and it was sad. So I never wanted to watch it. I've only seen it a handful of times."

Logan hummed. "It's certainly not the most pleasant story."

It wasn't the happiest, no. Rather depressing and bittersweet. Virgil set down his glass on the coffee table. "So do you often watch Tim Burton movies in the middle of the night or is this a new tradition I'm unaware of?"

"I just couldn't sleep." His eyes stayed trained on the TV. "I figured a distraction would help. Or at least force me to stay awake until I can't keep my eyes open anymore."

Ah, yes, Virgil was familiar with those tactics. "Would you rather do that alone?"

Logan somehow appeared smaller than he did before. "Not really."

Oof. That didn’t feel nice in the chest area. “Bet you five bucks I can still recite the movie.”

Logan’s eyes flicked over to him and a small smirk spread across his face. “Bet you five bucks  _ I _ could actually do it.”

“Alright. You’re on, old man.”

Turned out, they could both do it. But that made things more fun. They ended up assigning themselves lines for the main characters and went back and forth on lines for the minor characters. Virgil had Lydia (obviously), Barbara, and Charles. Which left Logan with Beetlejuice, Adam, and Delia. They couldn’t get through the scene where Beetlejuice tried to marry Lydia, however. By that point, they started laughing and it was downhill from there.

They each tried to stifle their laughter, which of course, made them laugh more. Virgil had to admit that Logan’s laughter was contagious. It was light and airy and made him smile. Not that he’d admit that. He’d also never admit to being happy for getting Logan to laugh in the first place. That was no one else’s business but his own.

“Okay, that was fun, but I think I’m gonna go back to bed now,” Virgil said as the credits started to roll. He stood up and stretched.

“I think I will, too.” Logan began to search around for wherever he left the remote.

Great. “Sounds like a plan. Night, L.”

Logan froze. “What was that?”

Virgil stopped and looked back. “Uh, ‘night, L’?” He furrowed his brows. “Do you not want me to call you that?” He was too tired to decipher the weirdness going on.

Logan stared at him before seeming to remember that words needed to be spoken. “No, I-I don’t… It’s just that someone else used to call me that. A long time ago.” He shook his head. “Never mind. Feel free to call me that if you wish. Goodnight, Virgil.”

The next time Virgil woke up it was because he heard “Helena” by My Chemical Romance playing in the kitchen. Of fucking course he had to fling himself out of bed to see who was listening. He stumbled onto Patton quietly singing along while he made breakfast. Well, that was a bit unexpected.

“You listen to My Chemical Romance?” Virgil was sure he stood far enough away.

Patton stopped singing and fumbled with the fork in his hand. “No,” he rushed out. He paused the music before turning to Virgil. “How do you always manage to sneak up on me?”

Virgil shrugged. He decided to enter the kitchen since the risk of injury had passed. “Does Picani listen to My Chemical Romance, then?”

“Picani listens to everything.” Patton unlocked the phone before tossing it to Virgil. “When you live a long time it’s kind of difficult to stick to just one genre of music. There’s more of it every decade.” He turned back to mixing pancake batter.

To say that Picani’s playlists were impressive was a bit of an understatement. Each decade had its own playlist. There was such a diverse array of music that Virgil was kind of jealous that he didn’t know half as many songs. Though he noticed an odd skip in years. There were a few from the 40s but then it went straight to the 70s. No 50s or 60s music at all. “Not a fan of early rock?” If Virgil remembered correctly, some of Thomas’s favorite music was from that time period. It didn’t make sense for Picani not to have it.

“What?” Patton almost dropped the bowl this time.

“You’re missing two decades.” Virgil shook the phone for emphasis. “No Elvis? The Beatles? Johnny Cash?”

“Oh, uh,” Patton focused on the bowl, “we don’t really like listening to that music anymore. It reminds us a little too much of someone.” He paused and frowned at the bowl for a moment before smiling up at Virgil. “But we’re working on it.”

Virgil had a bit of a feeling he knew who he was referring to. To be fair, if Virgil lost his best friend, he didn’t think he’d be able to listen to their favorite kind of music either. “Well, there’s a lot of other songs here. Let’s see how many genres we can flip through.”

And if Logan walked in on them performing “This Is Gospel”, well, he was going to keep that to himself.

When everyone came in for breakfast, Virgil wished he could have said that it was all back normal. To anyone else, it would have seemed normal. But there were little things that were off -- things only the group members would be able to tell. The biggest one being that Logan and Patton weren’t sitting next to each other. It was kind of jarring. It didn’t seem as if they should be separated, yet it was a conscious decision. Logan chose to sit next to Thomas instead.

Clearly, it was something that bothered Patton because he fidgeted with everything more than usual. On the bright side, none of his own feelings spread out to anyone else. Virgil didn’t know how much more tears or guilt he could handle before going crazy.

Regardless; Thomas, Roman, and Virgil tried to carry on conversations. Neither Patton nor Logan said a word the whole time. By the time breakfast was over, they continued to not talk to each other. Or anyone. Which, of course, the other three couldn’t stand for. It was awkward and weird and somehow way too quiet.

But before anyone could do anything about it, Thomas’s phone rang. Because of course it did. It played generic default music that came with the phone.

Thomas gave it a weird look before answering. "You know texting is a thing, right?" He sighed and rolled his eyes so hard Virgil was sure he’d be able to see the inside of his skull. "Hello, Joan, how are you? It's a lovely day, thank you for calling me. It's always great to hear your voice." He shook his head with an amused smile. “What’s up?”

Everyone gathered their plates to put in the sink while Joan responded on the other end.

“Okay, uh, hang on a second.” Thomas took the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker. “So what’s going on?”

_ “I realize this might not be the best time, but I have a bit of a side quest for you guys. If you’re up for it.” _

“I don’t appreciate the wording, but continue,” Logan responded.

_ “Always great to hear your positivity, Logan. Anyway, Talyn and I heard a report of someone with a magical object downtown. We don’t know who or what, but we know they’re hiding in the apartment complex off of Cyprus.” _

That’s the same one where Roman lived.

"Is this a time sensitive case?" Patton asked.

_ "You don't have to do it right at this minute, but -- y'know -- do it. They don't seem like they're going anywhere." _

"Is that really all you have?" Thomas sighed -- something closer to a whine, however.

_ "It was just a tip. People don't like to be descriptive when they're selling someone out." _

"Fair enough."

_ "Good luck, guys. And don't die 'cause that would really be a bummer." _

"Wow, thanks." Thomas rolled his eyes again. "Bye Joan." He hung up and turned to the others with a smile. "So we're doing a side quest?"

"I suppose so," Logan answered.

Patton hesitated. "Are you sure you should go? It could be dangerous and you don't have --"

"I can handle myself," Logan snapped, then immediately recoiled. Roman and Thomas shared an uneasy glance. He continued in a calmer voice, "I mean, I will be fine. You don't have to worry about me."

"But --"

"I think he's got it handled," Roman interjected. "And we'll all be there, won't we?"

"Yeah, everything will be fine," Thomas added.

Virgil gazed at them in confusion. It sort of seemed like they were trying to cover up something.

Patton gave them a nervous smile. "Oh, um, okay."

This was nonsense. "Alright before we get to any of that, you two  _ have _ to talk to each other.” Virgil nudged Patton toward Logan. “Figure things out. If you keep acting this way something is going to go wrong. It hasn’t even been that long and I’m already exhausted by you two." He wasn’t going to stand for it. He may not have been able to prevent it, but he sure as hell was going to do damage control.

After seeing that he was serious (and that Roman and Thomas agreed) Patton decided to give in. He fidgeted with his hands like a little boy trying to approach his crush. “Uh, wanna take a walk?”

Logan studied him up and down. “Sure.”

That was the best thing to happen these last few days.

Roman, Virgil, and Thomas waited for them in the living room. In order to avoid the overwhelming anxiety crushing them, they decided to play some card games. They didn’t know what to expect. Patton reminding Logan about an awful time in his life by imitating the actions he had grown to fear wasn’t something that could be brushed off. It was serious. And as much as they loved each other, forgiveness wasn’t easy.

But it wasn’t something that Roman, Virgil, or Thomas could have an opinion on. It was between Patton and Logan. They needed to decide for themselves what to do.

After three rounds of Speed, two rounds of Bullshit, a round of Go Fish, and far too many rounds of Slapjack; Patton and Logan came back in. Thomas and Roman were a bit too busy agonizing over their loss to notice. Virgil was also a bit busy with their reactions to process their return. It wasn’t until Patton spoke up that they paid attention.

“You boys having fun?” He leaned over the back of the sofa with a soft smile. Logan stayed at his side.

“Apparently Virgil has a hidden talent he didn’t tell us about,” Roman grumbled as he collected all the cards.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Virgil handed him the box.

“He won almost every single round of Slapjack,” Thomas continued with a huff. He placed his head in his hand. “What about you guys? You doing okay?”

“We’re getting there.” He sent a small smile to Logan. There wasn’t any reason to doubt that.

~~~

They all sat in the car staring up at the apartment complex. They didn’t know for sure if there were any Figments still hanging around, so they couldn’t quite waltz in there. There was also the issue of where this person was exactly. They were somewhere inside. And that was all the information that existed.

“Anyone who works with Altair is going to know our faces.” Thomas shifted in the middle seat. “Even if there aren’t any Figments, there could still be someone else.” He frowned out the window. “How are we supposed to get inside without raising any suspicions?”

“We use someone else,” Patton answered as if it was obvious.

“What are you --?” The three in the backseat cried out in alarm upon seeing Joan in the driver’s seat. Logan didn’t appear phased at all.

Virgil put his hands on his chest. “Jesus Christ. Give us a warning before you turn into someone else.”

He smiled sheepishly. The action was so very Patton it was almost unsettling to see it on Joan’s face. “Sorry,” he responded in a perfect imitation of their voice.

“How are you able to do that?” Roman asked. As the shock passed he seemed more fascinated than anything.

“Mimicry. Well -- illusion specifically.”

Thomas leaned forward. “I thought you hated using illusion magic.”

“Oh, I do. But someone has to get inside.” He gazed out the window.

“You didn’t change your eyes.”

Patton returned his gaze back to them. It was true. They were the wrong shade of brown. “I can’t. It’s really hard to do, and I never bothered learning it. Illusion was always my brother’s thing, anyway.”

“He doesn’t have to be a perfect copy,” Logan said, voice more level than normal. “He just has to not be one of us.”

“Exactly.” Patton grinned.

Boy, magic was weird. Virgil didn’t think he’d ever understand it. “Okay, so what’re you gonna do when you get inside?”

“I’m gonna see if there’s anyone we have to worry about, and hopefully find the apartment our mystery person is in. If it’s safe I’ll come get you guys.”

“And if it’s not?” Thomas frowned.

“We’ll figure that out if we get to it.” He left the car without any further remarks.

The group waited for his return. They couldn’t do much of anything else. Thomas and Virgil started a game of Chopsticks which soon became a game of “who-could-lose-less” between Roman and Virgil. Thomas had an absurd amount of tricks for winning. Roman ended up figuring some of them out, leaving Virgil as the Ultimate Loser. Oh, how cruel fate could be.

Logan watched them with the same amusement a father would his children. It could also be that he thought they were idiots, but it was a lot cuter to think about it the other way.

When Patton returned, he slid into the driver’s seat with a sigh. His disguise melted away. “They weren’t there.”

“What?” Thomas asked. “Like they were never there? Or like they just stepped out for a minute?”

“I don’t know. The apartment was completely empty, but the landlord swears up and down that someone was living in it.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “It felt bad in there.”

“What do you mean?” Roman's brows knitted together in confusion.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It just felt… awful. Like misery. Like someone who  _ causes _ misery.” He frowned. “But I swear I’ve felt that somewhere else before. I just can’t seem to remember where.” His eyes flicked over to Logan, studying him as if that would help him remember.

“If you felt something, that means they  _ were _ there at some point, right?” Virgil asked. “Is there a way to know if they were there recently?”

“I guess it depends on how strong the emotion is.” He thought about it. “I think we just missed them.”

Thomas let out a puff of air. “Now what do we do?”

“Can you follow them? The emotion, I mean,” Roman inquired. “I feel like that’s a pretty specific one to latch on to.”

“It doesn’t really work like that. It’s not a trail I can follow, it’s more like --” he tried to use his hands to explain -- “like a, a thing. An aura I guess would be the right word for it. Something I can feel around people or where they have a strong attachment. I won’t be able to know where they are unless we were right there with them.”

“So what? We walk around until you can feel them?” Virgil asked somewhat sarcastically.

Patton and Logan shared a glance. Oh no.

That’s what they ended up doing. They parked the car and started their search. Without much to go off of, they sort of picked a random direction and walked. At least it was a nice day out, though not many people were around. A few people wandered by every once in a while, but not a whole lot. The farther they got from the apartment, the fewer people they saw.

They were heading down a street that wasn’t ever all that busy -- even on the best days. The little stores themselves seemed to be empty. This was more barren than normal. It was kind of off-putting. Virgil wanted to mention it, but he noticed the trio in front of him come to a halt.

Patton winced at the same time Logan and Thomas hissed in pain.

“You guys okay?” Virgil stopped in his tracks.

“Fine,” Logan muttered as he rubbed the center of his chest.

“What was that? Why did it feel -- can something feel evil? Is that a thing that can happen? That seems really cliche, I can’t believe that’s a real thing I just felt.” Thomas’s expression turned sour. He smacked his lips together. “My mouth tastes bitter.”

“That was magic.” Patton exchanged a troubled look with Logan. “Someone wants us to find them.”

“Uh, do people normally walk into foreclosed buildings like that?” Roman pointed across the street as someone slipped through the door of an abandoned store. “If not I think we might have found our person.”

Virgil sighed in defeat. “Of course it’s another abandoned place.”

Patton and Logan led the group across the street. The store, thank God, didn’t seem as old or musty as the previous places. In fact, it seemed recently abandoned. The foreclosed signs were still stuck to the windows as well as the posters for the “everything must go” sale. It must have been a clothing place before. Inside there were still racks and display shelves -- even a mannequin or two.

And, making their way around without a care, was the person they were looking for. They walked like they didn’t have anywhere better to be. Their steps were slow and random, walking about the store with the purpose of waiting for someone to come in. Heels clicked against the hard floor.

Logan pulled out his sword, making Virgil hyper-aware of the pens still resting in his pockets. “I think it might be best if you hand over what you’re hiding.”

The person stopped in their tracks and sighed. “Always straight to business,” they turned around, “aren’t you, Logan?”

Logan’s sword clattered to the floor. He took several steps back, his wide eyes never leaving the woman before them. “That… that’s not possible. You shouldn’t be here.”

From the sunlight that came in through the windows, they could make out her features clear as day. She appeared to be in her early twenties -- but that wasn't a trustworthy indication. She had straight black hair chopped off in a bob. Lips spread out into a sly smile. For such a petite woman, everything about her was sharp edges. A threatening mantle on an otherwise harmless figure. Her long gray coat did nothing to soften her up. Even her eyes seemed hard.

“Why?” Thomas glanced between Logan and the woman. “What’s wrong?”

Logan didn’t respond. He just stared.

Thomas turned to Patton. “Who is she?”

“She…” Patton visibly struggled for words. He stared at her with almost as much shock as Logan.

“Oh -- what?” The woman's expression evolved into a smirk. “You haven’t told him about little ol’ me? I figured I deserved at least that. After Picani tried to kill me.”

“W-what?” Thomas stared at her in disbelief.

“He wasn’t very good at it, obviously.” She stepped closer. “You decided to just leave me for Altair instead. But you know what? Instead of killing me he offered me something I couldn’t refuse.” Her smirk widened. “A chance to get back at the two of you.”

That caused Patton to snap out of his surprise. “Don’t act like a victim. You know what you did.”

Virgil pulled Thomas behind him. He had a bad feeling that something was about to start up.

The woman let out a gentle gasp and placed a hand on her chest. “But did that elicit such a harsh punishment? Tied up and left for a horrendous death?”

Patton continued to glare at her.

She dropped her offended act. “Fine. I’m not here for you, anyway.” Her gaze turned over to Logan, who still stared at her with wide eyes. “Somehow, everything always comes back to you, doesn’t it? Guess you’re just that irresistible.” She held out her hand toward him. “Do I have your permission?” A sly grin spread across her face with a sick amusement for something that only she seemed to get a kick out of.

Logan didn’t say anything. 

“No, you don’t,” Patton snapped. He stood in front of Logan protectively. “You’re not getting anywhere near him.”

The woman pouted. “You gave him up so easily last time. Why is this so different?”

“I learned not to trust you.”

She tsked. “Shame. I thought we could do this the easy way. Ah, well, a job is a job.” She lifted her hand and a ghostly echo of an arm stretched out from under her feet. At the end was a hand with long slender fingers -- a claw more like. With every movement her hand made, the claw followed. It pushed Patton to the side and grabbed Logan, dragging him toward her.

Patton growled, almost animalistic in nature, and a thick column of weeds broke through the concrete floor. It severed the arm in half which caused it to fade out of existence.

Once Logan was free, he sprinted back toward the group. Patton tried to meet him halfway. But two claws halted their progress. One stopped Patton from getting any further while the other pulled Logan back until he stumbled to the woman’s side.

“Can’t have you two getting together.” She wagged her finger. “I remember what happened last time.”

The group felt a flare of anger. “Arlene, I swear --”

“Swear to what? Last time I checked, you didn’t believe in much of anything anymore.” She stared him down, challenging him to start something. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to complete.” She seized Logan’s arm.

And Logan sort of locked up. He didn’t make any attempt to free himself. An automatic panic response to something he probably never wanted to happen again.

A few of the weeds broke loose of the column and shot out toward Arlene. They tore her away from Logan, keeping her pinned down as far away as possible. Logan remained frozen.

“Logan.” Patton ran over to him. “C’mon, we gotta go.” He didn't get to do anything before a claw swatted him back.

Virgil grabbed Roman and Thomas’s wrists and pulled them behind a display shelf. Patton and Arlene were going to play keep-away with Logan at the center. “We have to get Logan out of here,” Virgil said in a low voice. “Those two are going to tear each other apart before they let the other get him.”

“Then what?” Roman wasn’t as crouched down as Thomas and Virgil were. Enough to be hidden, but not totally on the floor.

So having to look up at his worried face was more than Virgil could handle. “Then we run like hell.”

Roman let out a steady stream of air through his mouth. Thomas didn’t say much of anything, but Virgil had a feeling he wouldn’t oppose. They didn't have a lot of options. This was a new kind of threat.

“Oh, there you are.”

The three yelped. They turned to see Arlene edging around the shelves with a wide grin.

“I was wondering where you boys ran off to. It was looking pretty empty.” She lifted her hand, a menacing claw rose with it. Before she could strike, Roman shot up, swinging his katana straight through the claw. They stared at each other in bewilderment. As if neither side could believe that Roman did, in fact, do what he did. Hell, even Virgil was shocked. Impressed, but shocked.

Which meant Thomas had enough time to squeeze by Arlene. He grabbed Logan’s hand and sprinted away.

Arlene scowled. She turned to go after them but Roman stuck his katana in front of her. Virgil stood up, slipping his pens out of his pockets. Arlene scowled further.

Thomas ran to the back section of the store. He pulled Logan out of sight. They stood in a little hallway connecting the two back sections, which couldn’t be seen from the front. That would give them a little time. He hoped. They just needed to figure out an escape route. As far as he could see, there weren’t any other doors than the main entrance. But first thing’s first.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m, I’m fine.” Logan held onto his arms with his fingers digging into his sleeves. “I’m fine.”

That wasn’t very believable. He didn’t look fine at all. It looked like he was ready to break apart at any second. “I have to get you out of here.”

“B-but Patton.”

“Patton will be fine.” He winced when he heard a loud crash from the other room. “Roman and Virgil are with him. We can’t let Arlene get you.”

“I… I don’t want her to.” Logan tightened his grip. “I can’t be with her again.”

Thomas paused, mind processing the absolute fear in Logan’s words, before settling into a resolved composure. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Virgil was going to lose it. He didn’t know if it was Patton’s anger or his own, but he was starting to get really pissed off with this Arlene lady. She wouldn't let up! She had magic that Virgil had yet to see before. It was different. A horrible different. An annoying different.

He and Roman were trapped underneath bent wood. When they broke the shelves, Arlene moved them to make a cage. She separated them from each other, as well. So they couldn’t do much to help the other break out. They were small, cramped spaces. And Virgil wasn't going to stay in there any longer than he had to.

“Why are you doing this  _ now?” _ Patton shook out his hands. Arlene pulled weeds out of them, creating the equivalent to rope burns. “If all you wanted was ‘revenge’ then why wait?”

“Sometimes you just have to wait for the right moment.” The weeds shriveled up and died in her hand. “Wouldn’t you say that now would be the right moment?” They crumbled into ash, falling to the floor when she opened her palm. She stalked toward Patton. “Picani is gone. Logan is defenseless. And you can’t do anything about it. Without Picani… you’re useless. Aren’t you?”

Patton scowled at her. The air became tense -- almost suffocating. Pure hatred. Unabashed loathing filled the room. A feeling so genuine it wouldn’t be possible to understand unless someone felt it them-self. Then, in a seamless flow of anger, Patton swung at her. No magic this time.

Arlene had no choice but to stumble back. She almost looked surprised. Maybe a bit impressed. But that quickly changed to hatred. Annoyance. Like trying to kill a bug that won’t stay still. She responded to Patton’s actions aptly. Though with every move it became clear that she was nowhere near Patton’s skill set. She wasn’t even near Logan’s.

She didn’t create her own actions. She copied. She didn’t move unless Patton moved first. Unsure. Messy. The type of movements found in people who are out of their comfort zone. And this seemed far, far away from her comfort zone. Virgil could see her start to panic. She needed to do something else. Bring this fight back to where she could win.

_ “Cesso drahen,” _ Arlene hissed, venom in every syllable.

Patton stopped. His hands made their way to his chest and throat as he choked. He gasped, eyes going wide as the realization kicked in. He couldn’t breathe. He fell to his knees and heaved -- struggling to get any kind of air.

“Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it?” Arlene adjusted her coat. “Should’ve done that ninety years ago.”

She turned around and Virgil swung at her as Right had instructed. He managed to slice a small portion of her cheek. As she stepped back, she stared at him in offense more than anything. But instead of blood, as was to be expected, black liquid creeped out. Then the skin around the cut transformed into smoky clouds. It covered the injured area before fading back into her skin. The cut was gone. What the hell…?

Then it clicked.

Virgil took a sharp intake, eyes widening. “You’re a --”

Arlene spat out,  _ “Intercludo ritan,” _ and Virgil couldn’t move. His whole body became frozen. She put a finger up to her smirking lips. “Let’s keep that between us, shall we?”

Oh, fuck no. She wasn’t real! He had to tell the others. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t do anything. He was stuck in this position. It was like every muscle in his body tensed up and he didn’t have the ability to relax them.

“I think I see why they’d want to keep you around.” Arlene gazed at him with mild interest. “You’re a lot like  _ her. _ You have that same light in your eyes -- the same kind of determination. You’re one and the same.”

“Virgil!” Roman sprinted over. He hovered between Virgil and Arlene as if he didn't know which he wanted to go after more.

“Oh, they have the other one, too.” Arlene glanced between them with a knowing smirk. “The complete set. I guess that means soulmates  _ are _ real.”

Roman gave her a weird look. “What are you --?” He stopped abruptly when she put a finger to his lips.

She repeated the same words she used on Virgil. She dropped her hand. “Don’t worry, it’ll wear off in a couple hours.” She spared a glance around the room before backing away from them. “You boys stay right where you are. I have a kid to get rid of and a boyfriend to steal.”

No one could stop her from leaving.

Thomas’s head peeked out from behind one of the shelves. He was always told that spoken spells were the strongest magic. He just never realized how accurate it was. He had never felt magic like that before. In fact, he was never able to feel magic at all. Unless it was your own, it was almost undetectable. But this was… ugly.

He felt a pull in him to help them. What could he do? He didn’t have magic and neither did Logan. The one person that did was suffocating in the middle of the floor. There had to be something he could do. He turned to Logan and found him staring hard at the wall with his fingernails digging into his palm. It didn’t seem as if he was completely in the moment. He needed to get out of here.

Thomas grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the exit. There was only so much time before Arlene came back out to look for them. They needed to be gone before then. They crept along as silently as they could, careful to hide behind anything useful.

Then Thomas felt Logan's hand ripped from his own. An icy feeling spread throughout his chest. He spun around to see Arlene there. Logan had his back pressed against the wall from the floor with a claw keeping him in place. They shared a horrified glance.

"Where are you going, sweetie?" She took a step toward Thomas, making him scramble to stand up. "Don't you know it's rude to sneak away like that?" She continued walking toward him.

Thomas took a step back for every step she took forward. He didn't know what to do. She wasn't going to go easy on him. He stepped on debris that caused his foot to roll forward and the rest of him to fall to the ground. He continued to clamber back until he hit something solid.

Arlene stood over him. Like a cat who finally caught the mouse.

"Thomas!" Logan tried to wriggle out from the claw but to no avail.

"Oh,  _ you're  _ Thomas. I've heard so much about you." Arlene smirked down at him and tapped his nose. "You're the runt of the litter, aren't you?"

Thomas kicked her square in the chest. She stumbled back enough for him to get away. He dove straight for Logan's sword still discarded on the floor.

When he held it up, Arlene laughed. "Be careful, little boy. You might hurt yourself with that." Her full attention was on him now, but she still held out her arm to keep Logan in place. "Do you even know how to use it?"

Thomas's hands were trembling. He couldn't hold it steady. He had seen people hold and fight with swords before. He saw Roman practice. He used to watch his father do the same. He saw Logan more times than anyone else. But he himself had never even held one before. No one considered he would need to.

"Why don't we give you some practice?" She lifted her other hand and a claw showed up, ready to strike. "If you can survive this then I'm sure you'll be able to get to me."

Thomas held his breath.

"Wait!" Logan shouted before Arlene could move. "Leave him alone. You just want me, don't you? Isn't that all you're here for?"

Arlene continued to keep the claw raised. "Of course."

"So just take me. Make your job easier and leave with me right now."

Thomas's heart dropped. "Logan --"

"Shh. The adults are talking." Arlene held a finger up. The claw did the same.

Logan didn't look anywhere but at Arlene. "Leave them alone and you can have me. I won't fight you on it. I'm sure Altair would be glad to have this over and done with. The sooner he has elemental magic, the better, right?"

Arlene didn't say anything for a moment. Her eyes had yet to leave Thomas. Then, the claw that had been all too eager to strike, disappeared. Faded out of existence. She snapped and Thomas could practically feel the evil magic disappear from the room. Patton swallowed gulps of air he was now allowed to have. Roman and Virgil fell to the floor at the sudden ability to use their legs again.

"You drive such easy bargains, Logan." Arlene turned and walked back to him. "You're always so willing to throw yourself away if it means saving someone else. If I knew you hadn't changed, this would have made things much easier."

Roman and Virgil struggled to rise to their feet, the magic made their limbs jelly. Patton could barely breathe enough to do anything. Not that it stopped him.

“Logan,” he wheezed out. “Don’t --”

Thomas tightened his grip on the sword.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Pattycake.” The claw around Logan faded. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. “He’s already made up his mind. And he chose me again. Isn’t that --?” She choked on her next words. It might have been a bit hard to continue with a sword in her back. “The little runt has some guts, doesn’t he?” Then she erupted into smoke like every other Figment they had ever seen before. Thomas was able to see Logan stare at him in disbelief.

“She wasn’t real,” Logan whispered.

Thomas didn’t respond. He didn’t know how. He lowered the sword and took a step back for Patton to stumble through. He hesitated before deciding to go check on the two on the floor.

He helped them both up, though they still seemed unsteady.

"Nice save," Roman commented.

Thomas twisted the pommel. He never knew there was a bit of a kick to it as the sword retracted.

"You okay?" Virgil must have seen the look on his face. He was always so concerned about him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He stared down at the pommel. Logan had been using it for years. It was his first and only sword. Thomas didn't think he'd ever seen anyone else use it before.

"Are you, really?"

"I mean," he looked up. They both stared at him in concern, "I -- I've never had to do that before. I didn’t really want to." He averted his eyes. “I was… I was just scared and mad and -- I don’t know.” He added, almost as an afterthought under his breath, “I didn’t wanna lose anyone else.”

“Thomas,” Virgil put a hand on his shoulder, “she wasn’t real. I know that probably doesn’t make this any easier, but you didn’t kill her. She was already dead. Acting in the heat of the moment doesn’t make you bad. No one’s upset with you here.”

“And think about it,” Roman continued. “Would Arlene really stop any other way? She was pretty willing to take all of us out. I don’t think talking would have gotten us anywhere. You weren’t left with much of a choice.”

Thomas didn’t know what to think. “I guess.”

“Hey,” Virgil squeezed his shoulder, “he’s right. Sure, it’s a bit extreme, but nothing else worked. Sometimes doing the right thing isn’t easy.”

“But how do I know if it was the right thing?”

“We’re all here. We’re all alive.” Roman gave him a gentle smile. “I’d count that as the right thing.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile back.

Their moment was cut short when they heard the commotion going on with Patton and Logan. Logan was holding onto his arms like a life-line and overall seemed quite frantic. Patton appeared to be trying to calm him down with little success. The three gave each other a look before deciding to approach.

“She’s gone now,” Patton said. “She won’t hurt us again -- she won’t hurt  _ you _ again.”

“That’s not the point,” Logan exploded. Everyone stared at him in shock. “She acted real. She had all her memories. All of her magic. Altair was able to make an exact replica of her.” He dug his fingers into his arms. “What if he does it again? How can we trust anyone that we meet?”

The other members were stunned into silence.

“I -- I can’t --” Logan’s breathing became erratic. “Patton.” He fell against Patton’s chest.

Patton wrapped his arms around him. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He shut his eyes tight.

A warm, soft feeling covered the area like a blanket. And much like a blanket, it was comforting. It was safe. There wasn’t anything to be afraid of as long as it was there. Well… as long as _Patton_ was there. It was fake. Underneath every blanket is a person. And underneath the security was fear. There was panic and uncertainty. If they prodded enough, they’d be able to find it. But no one wanted to. They curled further in the blanket because it was better than being exposed to the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a fun trivia fact for you: Mrs. Sanders found out she was pregnant with Thomas shortly after the Logan/Arlene incident (which you will find out about in more detail next chapter). But she elected not to tell anyone until a more appropriate time


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some ugly secrets are finally revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Allusions to (past) relationship abuse, self-harm, minor body horror**

No one said much of anything. What was there to say, anyway? No matter how much Virgil wanted to know about Arlene, he couldn’t bring it up. No matter how much he wanted to know how in the hell Altair could create a Figment that acted like an actual person, he couldn’t find the words. Figments were supposed to be echoes of a person. They weren’t supposed to  _ be _ the person. And that was a rather scary thought, wasn’t it? Logan was right. If Altair could create a Figment like that, then there was no way to know who was or wasn't real. Their greatest advantage -- gone.

Virgil called in sick to work as soon as they got home. There was no way he’d leave now. Too much had happened. He didn’t think he’d be able to leave the house even if he wanted to.

Logan stayed glued to Patton’s side since the moment they left the store. He’d reach out and touch him every so often. As if he needed a reminder that he was real -- that he didn’t go anywhere.

“I have some questions if you want to answer them,” Thomas asked quietly. The group situated themselves in the living room in their usual spots. No one commented on how close Logan and Patton were sitting. “You don’t have to, obviously. It’s not all that pressing or anything.”

“What is it?” Patton responded, voice just as quiet.

Thomas examined them for a moment. As if maybe the answers would come to him without him needing to open his mouth at all. “Who -- uh -- can we know who that was? If you wanna say. If you don’t, I get it.”

Virgil felt icky. His brain oh so helpfully reminded him that he didn’t give Thomas that choice when he needed it.

“Well, um, that was Arlene Waters.” Patton’s words came out choppy and uncertain. “She -- we used to know her pretty well. Your parents sort of ended up adopting her as they did with any kid they found on their own. They had a soft spot for runaways.” A sad smile flickered on his face before fading out. “We used to think she was our friend.”

“What changed that?” Roman asked.

Two separate reactions happened then. Logan stiffened, shutting his eyes tight and digging his fingernails into the back of his hand. Patton clenched his jaw and struggled to maintain a calm composure. A quick flash of anger showed how he felt underneath.

“You don’t have to tell us, then,” Virgil mumbled.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

“No, I --” Logan took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He dug his nails further into his hand -- “I can tell you.”

“Are you sure?” Patton gazed at him with concern. “No one’s forcing you to do this.”

“I have to talk about it at some point.”

“Not if it’s going to make you uncomfortable.” Thomas frowned.

“I can get through it.” He dragged his nails across the back of his hand. "It's -- I can do it."

Patton continued to stare at him in concern but didn't say anything else.

“Patton and I had to unfuse for a short while due to a task that couldn’t be completed by Picani.” Logan kept his eyes on the floor. “It was the first time she ever met us and the first time she ever heard about fusion. After that, she sort of had this... obsession. She’d ask Picani countless questions. We didn’t think anything about it. Then she asked to fuse with me."

"And I made the mistake of going along with it," Patton muttered. 

It was clear that this was something that still upset Patton. Not that it took much imagination why. His decision affected the outcome of the story. He let Logan and Arlene fuse. In his eyes, it must have been all his fault.

"She led us to believe that it would be a short excursion -- a simple task like many of the others we’d done before -- but it didn’t exactly turn out that way. She tricked me -- she tricked  _ us.” _ He continued to drag his nails along his skin. “I put my complete trust in her, and she just -- she just used me. She used my magic for things I would never even think of doing. All because she wanted… she wanted…”

“What?” Thomas pried quietly.

Logan scratched at his hand with more force. “Me. She wanted me for herself. She kept me trapped in a fusion with her. I couldn’t do anything. Even when I took the control away from her, I still couldn’t escape. She wouldn’t let me. The most I could do was force us to get far away so we wouldn’t hurt anyone else. I was stuck with her for so long. I didn’t think I’d ever get to be myself again.”

“Like Lapis and Jasper,” Thomas murmured.

He didn't stop scratching. “A little too much like that, I think.”

“I thought you said fusions couldn’t be Malachite,” Roman mentioned.

“They can’t form that way. But they can sure as hell turn into one.”

Patton gently pried Logan’s hand away and held it between his own. There were red streaks where Logan dug into his own skin. “Fusions need trust and love in order to form. And Arlene was our friend. We had no reason to doubt her.”

“But why would she just want Logan?” Thomas asked. “Why would she trick everyone to get him?”

Logan used his free hand to dig his fingers into the seat. His mouth stayed shut.

“We can’t know for sure.” Patton looked down at their hands. “It must’ve been because she saw what kind of magic he had.”

“What d’you mean by that?” Virgil had a bad feeling he knew this already.

“Uh, how should I put this?” Patton paused to see if Logan would jump in. When he didn’t, he continued a bit begrudgingly, “Every Magi has one specific magic type that they’re born with. It’s the only magic they’re capable of mastering. Like, I have healing magic. I can try to learn other magic types, but it’ll never be as good as my healing. Logan, however, has elemental magic. It’s sort of like mastering three different magic types at once. Which is why it’s so powerful and unique.”

_ And why Altair wants control of it so bad. _

Oh. Oh no. Virgil tried to push away the bad timelines attempting to invade his personal space. He couldn’t deal with those right now. They were starting to become a very real possibility and he didn’t like it. He didn’t know how he was going to handle the aftermath of losing everyone. He had gotten so used to having them around, that a life without them didn’t seem all that pleasant anymore.

“Uh, let’s watch something.” Thomas picked up the remote to turn on the TV. The first thing that appeared on screen was a far too familiar episode of  _ Steven Universe _ . Lapis, trapped inside Malachite, struggled to keep Jasper down. Thomas changed the channel as fast as he could. “Maybe not that.”

Logan grimaced.

Right until the moment they fell asleep, an air of melancholy hovered over them. It was almost palpable, in a way. No one was quite himself. Least of all Logan. He didn’t speak another word the rest of the day -- not even when prompted by Patton. Nothing was able to get him to join any conversation. Nothing in that moment, anyway.

Virgil shot up, gasping. Every ragged breath hindered his ability to settle his thoughts and remember where he was. His whole body shook with nerves. As it turned out, peeking into time itself had some lingering side effects, and that included seeing the future unprompted. It happened in dreams most often, but it was starting to go away. At least, that's what he thought. He couldn't know for sure, and he didn't think to ask the Theorist about it. He knew for a fact he couldn't go to Patton or Logan. They'd ask questions.

As the horrible visions faded from his mind, he took a deep breath. Focus. He was on the floor in the living room. He chose to sleep there so Roman could have the sofa to himself. Thomas slept on the floor as well, but he sat with his back against the love seat. Against the armrest that Patton used as a pillow. And Virgil almost choked on his air when he saw Logan missing. A million different thoughts raced through his head.  _ Am I too late? Is it starting? _ But the moment he got to his feet, he was able to breathe again.

Logan stood outside on the deck.

Virgil zipped up his hoodie before deciding to join him. The minute he slid open the door, a cool chill ran over him. He could feel it even through the fabric of his hoodie. A rare, cold California night. A perfect excuse for his trembling limbs.

"How the hell are you not wearing a jacket?" He stepped up to Logan's side.

Logan quickly tugged down his sleeve. "What do you mean?"

Virgil's eyes lingered on his arm but didn't see anything wrong with it. "I mean it's freezing out here." In what he hoped would be an emphasis to his point, Virgil threw his hood on and pulled the strings to tighten it. In reality, it was one of his weird coping mechanisms when things created a bit too much anxiety.

"I don't feel it."

_Bitch, don't do it --_ "Does that mean the cold never bothered you anyway?" _... you're an idiot._

Logan gave him an unamused glare.

"Yeah, sorry, I've been spending way too much time with Roman." He put his arms over the wooden rail and leaned against it. The neighboring city lights could be seen from here. "Why can't you feel it?"

"I can't feel temperatures." Logan ran a hand over his left palm. It was the first time Virgil noticed a long, faded scar across it. "A side effect of my magic, unfortunately. If something is a drastically different temperature than me -- for example, if my body is cold, but someone else is warm -- then I would be able to feel it."

"So you really can't feel temperature any other way?"

"No other way that I've ever discovered."

He couldn't decide if that was impressive or not. "You have one of those, too?" He nodded his head at Logan's scar.

A little scoff came out. "I have quite a few more than one." He paused, eyeing Virgil in confusion. "What do you mean 'too'?"

_ Shit. _ "Oh, uh, nothing. Just kinda slipped out."

Logan didn't appear at all convinced, but he didn't press further. Thank God. "What are you doing out here?"

Virgil shrugged, hoping to convey a noncommittal answer. "Sleeping's hard. What about you?"

He stared down at his hands. "Needed some air."

Why did caring about people hurt so much? Ugh, it was frustrating. The worst part was that Virgil didn’t know how to handle it. Someone else’s anxiety? Sure, whatever. He could work with that. Someone’s trauma about a horrible past relationship they quite literally couldn’t escape? He had no idea where to even start. “Uh, if you want some space I could, um, leave you alone.”

Logan spared him a glance. His eyes were empty of anything. Normally, Virgil could see many hidden emotions swirling in those blue pools, but now the water was stilled. Blank. Devoid of even a negative feeling. “I don’t particularly mind the company, but feel free to go back inside if it gets too cold.”

From someone who was born and raised in Arizona and used to visit Texas every summer, it was a kind of cold he wasn't used to. But no way in hell would Virgil let that stop him. “I’m sure I’ll live.”

“Alright.”

Another breeze rolled by.

“Can I show you something?” Logan didn’t look at him. The tone of his voice was far too calm -- unnaturally so. As if he flattened it down by pushing away any other possible emotion.

It made Virgil uncertain. “Um, sure.”

Logan snapped his fingers. Faint sparks appeared for less than a blink of an eye. Like a dying lighter. “This is the only magic I have left. The sliver of me that Altair didn’t get.”

“That seems a lot smaller than last time.” Last time. The first time Virgil ever met Logan. That was so long ago now.

“It is.”

“What happens when it’s gone?”

Logan didn’t answer.

Yet it was everything Virgil needed to know.

~~~

Virgil didn’t recall falling asleep. He didn’t realize he was until he heard a sharp, frantic gasp. It caused him to lurch into that weird not-quite-awake state. Which meant he opted for going back to sleep since he had the chance. The world didn't need him right now. Yet the intrusion persisted.

Patton, in a hushed whisper, called, “Thomas. Thomas, wake up! I can’t find my glasses.”

Thomas grumbled. “Wha --? What d’you mean?”

“My glasses are missing.”

“Huh?” Somehow, that caused him to sound more awake. “How’d you lose your glasses?”

“I-I don’t know. Do you see them?”

Glasses? What’s all this commotion about glasses? Virgil forced his eyes open. His sleepy logic told him that something lost needed to be found which equaled additional help. He propped himself enough to peek over the coffee table. Both Thomas and Patton were frantically searching around. Patton couldn’t move much with Logan still slumbering on his chest. Then Virgil got a good look at Patton. And he felt wide awake.

In his rush to move, he banged his knees against the coffee table. He bit his lip to stop any loud noises from coming out, though a solid ‘f’ sound was pretty clear. Thomas and Patton froze. They stared at him with wide eyes. Logan groaned and nuzzled further into Patton’s chest without waking up. Roman, on the other hand, woke right up. He blinked blearily at them, then seemed to notice the obvious problem.

“What the fu --?”

Both Patton and Thomas were quick to shush his shouting. They waited to see if Logan would wake up. Once he didn’t, they relaxed a bit.

Virgil couldn’t, though. Because what the actual  _ hell _ was happening here?

Patton’s eyes were blue. A bright blue. They were  _ not _ supposed to be blue. They were  _ brown. _ Not only that, but they were glowing.  _ Glowing! _ Like two sparkling stars against a dark sky. It was ethereal and also terrifying. Every human instinct he had told him to get far away.

"Okay, uh, I might have a bit of a confession to make," Patton whispered. He shared an uncertain glance with Thomas. "I, uh, I'm not -- I don't exactly -- I'm…" Upon seeming to not find the right words, he sighed. He moved his hair back as if putting it into a ponytail.

Virgil couldn't speak.

"Am I still dreaming?" Roman stared, dumbfounded.

For when Patton moved his hair, it revealed what it had been hiding in the first place. Ears.  _ Pointy  _ ears.

"I'm an elf." He dropped his hands and the curls bounced back into place. "I wanted to tell you guys sooner, but Logan thought it would be best to wait until you were a bit more comfortable with magic." Almost as an unconscious response, he ran his hand through Logan's hair. "But things happened and I just sort of… forgot. I'm sorry."

"I found your glasses," Thomas mumbled. He handed them over.

Patton gave him a small smile as he slipped them on. The change was almost instantaneous. The glow faded. The blue darkened to that familiar warm, brown color. Something more human. Though now that Virgil looked at it, it was a rather light brown. He didn’t know how he didn’t notice it before.

“How can you do that?” Roman pointed a lazy finger at Patton. It seemed as if he couldn’t decide between processing the current information or trying to wake up.

“Logan enchanted glasses for me before -- um --” he frowned down at Logan -- “well, he enchanted them. They’re actually fake. I just use them to pass as a human.”

Pass as a human. Oh, God. Patton wasn't human. He was farther from human than Logan or Thomas were. At least with those two, the one thing separating them from humans was their connection to magic. Patton was something different. Different to the point of needing a disguise to walk out in public. He wasn’t human.

It was too early for this.

"Guess that explains a bit," Virgil muttered. Honestly? He didn’t know how else to respond. He thought he had everything figured out about them at this point, but that clearly was not the case. This wasn’t a secret he ever thought to expect. He didn’t quite know where to file away the information.

“Okay, I’m going back to sleep.” Roman threw an arm over his eyes. “I’ll react to this better when I wake up again.”

“That's a decision I can get behind.”

Patton and Thomas sighed in relief.

The rest of the morning carried on without incident. Well -- incident was a relative term in this household. Did any other earth-shattering revelations happen? No. Did something happen involving threats with a sharp object? A little bit. But that was neither here nor there.

It was Roman’s fault, anyway.

After they woke up the second time, Roman and Virgil decided to skip out on the "Patton-being-an-elf" thing to take up another time. They had something else to talk about.

Arlene called them soulmates. Or at the very least, said they knew each other in a former life. Reincarnation wasn’t anything Virgil ever considered before. There wasn’t much reliable evidence for it, and there was no way to know for sure if souls even existed -- let alone if they could exist beyond someone’s life span. So to have someone downright claim this as fact was a bit much.

If they knew each other before, then who else knew them? Arlene for sure knew them at some point. She seemed to know  _ exactly  _ who they were, but of course, she didn’t drop any names. Because that would be too easy.

And what would make them soulmates, anyway? Is it because they found each other again? Separated by death, but able to meet again despite all odds? Alright, now that it was worded that way it seemed like that could work. But soulmates could be anything. Many people believed it was possible to have more than one soulmate. There wasn't one category a soulmate could fit in to. They could be romantic or platonic or even familial. Soulmates are just someone you have a deep connection with.

It wasn't an exact science.

Talking about it sort of made Virgil… lost. He didn't feel quite right anymore. There was a piece of him that he didn't understand -- a piece that didn't fit in with him anymore. Like someone carved it out and expected it to go back where it should be. There wasn't anything pleasant about it, to say the least.

So to combat that (since this house does nothing but push away feelings) he and Roman started a debate. A typical argument to make them feel more like them. Which is where the threatening came in. Then it came to them deciding on going out to the training grounds and preparing to fight each other.

Thomas told them they weren’t allowed to die, so that was the extent to their rules.

They might have gone through with it if they didn’t find Logan and Patton there first. They were sitting on a log having what appeared to be a serious discussion. So, naturally, Roman and Virgil hid in order to eavesdrop.

It sort of made them feel a bit bad when they heard the topic of discussion. Arlene. Logan still seemed pretty upset about it. Or at least Virgil assumed so. He just seemed a lot more rigid than normal.

Patton stood up from the log and turned to offer Logan a hand. “Dance with me.”

Logan stared at it before flicking his eyes up. “Is that the only move you know, Patton?” He smirked.

Patton snorted. “Shut up and take my hand.”

Logan did so and Patton pulled him to his feet. Virgil and Roman could hear Patton hum a tune that neither of them recognized. Both Logan and Patton seemed to know it pretty well, though. They moved in rehearsed steps. Retracing the actions of a previous memory. Pretty soon, the two were giggling between themselves. Amidst the joking and the spinning, they started to glow. It grew brighter and brighter until they were both encased in light. Once it dimmed, Picani replaced them. He tripped over his feet but managed to stay standing. 

“Talk about deja vu,” he muttered. He looked over himself. He was Picani alright. He wore the exact same hoodie and pajama pants as the last time anyone ever saw him. His height was still as gigantic as ever. “I wonder why it didn't work the other times.”  He moved his hands and fingers as if they were new things to him, but a slight smile slid on his face.

Then it fell right off.

He hissed in pain. He yanked up one of his sleeves and his eyes widened. A black band appeared around his wrist. “No. Not now. Please.” A bright flash of light sent Logan and Patton to the floor. Patton stared at his own wrist in shock. Nothing was there. For Logan, who was curled up in pain, the black band started to spread to the rest of his arm. Much like the last time Roman and Virgil saw, it was horrifying. His whole arm swirled with inky blackness. Many sections of it formed into smoke before switching back to his skin.

Patton hurried over to him. “Logan --”

“Wait,” he groaned out. All the commotion went back into a black band around his wrist which faded into his skin. Virgil could have sworn the outline of it still remained. He sat up, a grimace on his features.

“That looked a lot worse than last time.” Patton gazed at him in worry.

Logan hesitated. “Right. Last time…” He didn't say any more.

Virgil blew up, shooting out of their hiding spot. “Oh, come --” Roman slapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him back down. They stayed hidden with bated breath.

“Virgil, why don't you come on out?” Patton asked.

“You too, Roman,” Logan added.

The two shared a look before deciding to comply. They sulked over to Logan and Patton like two children who had been caught overhearing their parents’ argument.

“What are you boys doing out here?” Patton gazed up at them.

Well,  _ that _ didn’t help to soften the analogy. “Roman and I were trying to settle an argument,” Virgil mumbled. He kept his eyes on the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Virgil started it,” Roman added.

Virgil sent him a glare.

“You two aren’t allowed to use weapons to settle your arguments,” Patton scolded. “That’s dangerous and one of you can get hurt. We’ll talk more about that later.” He turned his attention to Logan and put a hand on his back. “Are you okay, hun?”

“Fine,” he grumbled. His attempt to rise to his feet ended with him crashing back down.

“Are you sure?” Patton helped him up this time. He frowned when he struggled to stay standing on his own. “I don’t think that did any good for you, _ikos_ _louljet.”_

Logan flushed. “I’m fine.” He tried to step away but found his legs couldn’t hold him, so he went back to clinging on to Patton.

Virgil scowled. He couldn’t believe this was happening. How  _ could _ it happen? Patton witnessed it first hand and Logan was still trying to hide how bad it was. That was it. The final straw. Virgil took a breath through his nose, mouth opening to begin a long-winded rant, but the voice that spoke wasn’t his.

“Logan, you need to come clean.” Roman put his hands on his hips, appearing as cross as Virgil felt. “You’re not helping anyone by keeping it to yourself. What good will Virgil and I do you if something happens? We don’t know anything about magic. You need someone else to know.”

“Logan?” Patton looked right at him in concern. “What’s he talking about?”

Logan’s eyes flitted across their faces as if trying to find a way out. Trying to find an excuse not to say it. He didn’t find one. He sighed and lowered his gaze to the ground to avoid looking at Patton. “This has happened several times before. It happens randomly. There isn’t any consistency to them so I have no way of knowing what to expect out of the next time. It -- it’s been getting worse.”

Patton’s concern seemed to grow. Virgil could feel a twinge of it in his heart. He gently placed his hand on Logan's chest. A soft glow -- different in color than his healing -- emitted from his palm. “Your magic is fading.” The glow fizzled out and he moved his hand to Logan’s cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.” Logan leaned into the touch. “I wanted -- I thought I could handle it on my own.”

“How did that turn out?”

“Poorly,” Roman muttered.

Virgil smacked his chest. He was ruining the moment.

Patton gave them a slight smile before returning his attention to Logan. “You shouldn’t be afraid to tell me things -- especially if they’re serious. If I’ve done something to make you think you can’t tell me your problems, please let me fix it. I don’t want you getting hurt because you kept something to yourself that you shouldn’t have.”

“I…” Logan pulled Patton’s hand away. “I think I need to lie down.” He hesitated before letting go.

“Of course.” Patton took a step back to make sure he could stand on his own. Once he proved he could, Patton didn’t take his eyes off him until he was out of sight. “Thank you for getting him to tell me. I don’t think he would have said it any other way.”

“Sorry it took so long,” Virgil murmured. In full honesty, he wished it could have been sooner.

A sad smile crossed his face. “I’m just glad I even know at all.”

“So what happens now?” Roman’s expression softened.

Patton took a deep breath. He let it out as he tilted his head up to the tree branches. “Now it’s a race against time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been super stressy lately so this is probably not the best thing I've ever written, but please let me know what you think regardless :) And on a side note, I'm always 100% up for world-building questions at any time. Feel free to send them over on Tumblr @sonicrainicorn


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is getting really tired of the universe causing problems.

“Joan says they have no idea who gave them the info,” Thomas sighed as he plopped down in his seat.

He, Virgil, Roman, and Patton were in the living room trying to solve their big mystery. Logan was still clocked out in the bedroom. His earlier incident didn’t quite ease up as well as the previous ones.

“They never met each other. It was just a written message.”

“Where did the message come from?” Patton asked. “Are they okay? Does Altair know where they are?”

"I don't know. Someone from Talyn's old clan said it was waiting there for them. But Talyn hasn't been there in years." Thomas frowned down at his phone. "Maybe his info is outdated?"

Patton fidgeted with his hands. "I don't know. I'd still be cautious."

"Yeah. They're both keeping their eyes out."

They had no idea what else to do. Without a doubt, Altair created this Figment specifically for them. It was someone Patton and Logan recognized and knew well, while the others have always been Magi they’ve never seen before. It boiled down to three major issues: how did Altair know about Arlene? Who sent them after her? And how did he create such a powerful Figment?

They didn’t have answers for the first two. But Patton figured out the third one.

Figments take up a lot of power and magic. They are a soul forced to recreate their former body without the magic that once held them together. Of course some things are going to be a little off because of that; an essential part of them was missing. But if there’s enough power, then less of them would be missing. Arlene was able to exist as herself because her soul and magic were able to come together almost to completion. There was enough power to put them together.  _ Altair _ had enough power to put them together. Unfortunately, there was one way he would have gained that jump of strength. Logan’s magic.

There were many, many reasons to why that sucked, and Virgil didn’t want to focus on any of them. He knew plenty of them front and back already. They never left his thoughts since the moment he saw his timeline.

The more magic Logan lost, the more of it went to Altair. If he was able to get all of it, he would be able to get it completely under his control. And if it ever got to that point, there wouldn’t be any more Logan. That would lead to all kinds of bad things.

It couldn’t ever get there.

“What are we supposed to do, then?” Roman asked. “We don’t have anything to go off of, we don’t know where Altair is now -- it’s like we’re back at square one. We just keep getting pushed farther back anytime we make progress.”

“We can’t exactly stop making progress,” Patton said. “Even if we have nowhere to go, we can’t let that be the end. There’s too much at stake.”

Virgil frowned at the coffee table.

“But we have even less time than before,” Thomas replied. “You said it yourself, Logan’s running out of magic. He can’t wait around for Altair to just show up. It took us forever to even get an idea of where he was the first time. How are we supposed to find him now?”

“I…” Patton floundered. Virgil felt a flash of panic -- desperation that was not his own -- enough to make his heart drop before disappearing. Patton clasped his hands together. “I don’t know. I have no idea what to do.”

Neither did anyone else.

Did Virgil accidentally take a nap that wasted most of the day after that? That wasn’t anything you could prove. The answer was yes, though. Yes, he did. It was a complete accident. He decided to go to his room to think about stuff then all of a sudden he was waking up. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it), he had a closing shift today. That meant he got to go into work a bit later.

But since he woke up feeling like trash, he decided to stay in bed until the time came to get ready. The first thing he did after was march straight into Roman’s room.

“Ro --” The rest of his name broke off.

Roman sat at his little desk. Fast asleep. His head rested on his folded arms with his laptop on and right in front of him. It displayed a picture opened up in editing software. The picture wasn’t complete yet, but it seemed to have gone through a lengthy process already. Without hesitating, Virgil crept forward and saved the file. Just in case.

He decided to let Roman get the extra sleep. It was obvious he needed it.

So Virgil wandered into the living room to recruit someone else. Patton, Logan, and Thomas were all there. The TV was on, but Patton was the only one watching. Logan sat beside him with his legs pulled up, focusing on his notebook. Thomas was on the floor with a new painting in front of him.

“Roman’s knocked out so I need someone to come to work with me.” He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“I volunteer,” Thomas muttered from around a paintbrush. He didn’t lift his eyes from the canvas as he used a different sized brush.

“No.” He turned to the other two. “Patton? Logan?”

Logan lifted his head. “What?

Patton smirked and shook his head. “I’ll go with you, Virgil.”

Virgil grabbed Roman’s keys and they were on their way.

When they got there, the bar wasn't very crowded. With it being the middle of the week, only the usuals showed up. Which was fine with Virgil. He knew almost all of them by name and knew they wouldn't be a bother. Half of them didn't even drink -- they just liked to hang out. It led to Virgil conducting a bit of an experiment.

Patton threw back another shot and set the glass down on the counter with the nine others. Virgil waited in anticipation.

“Yeah, I feel nothing.”

Now that just wasn’t fair. “How the hell…?” Virgil examined the shot glasses as if that would somehow provide answers. “I’m -- what witchcraft are you doing and how can I get in on it?”

Patton laughed. “Unless you somehow get healing magic, I don’t think I can help you.” He put his head in his hand. “And for once, it’s less witchcraft, more science.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, alcohol is basically a poison, right? And I have a fast healing body. So poison, plus extra-good liver, equals no effect.” He smiled.

“I’m jealous.” Freaking real-life Captain America here. “How much of that passes on to Picani?”

“Almost none of it, actually.” Patton used his free hand to move a shot glass over to him with a finger. “So Picani can totally get drunk.” He paused. “Don’t ask me how I know that.”

Virgil smirked. As he collected the other shot glasses, someone ran up to the counter and took the empty seat by Patton.

“Virgil. I’ve been thinking about that contract thing you mentioned and I might’ve finally figured it out.” The Theorist’s string of words staggered to a halt when he caught sight of Patton. “You’re… not the one that usually sits there.” He looked almost on guard. “Where’s Roman?”

“Couldn’t make it.” Patton studied him a bit suspiciously.

A gut feeling told Virgil to intervene. “Uh, Patton, this is the Theorist. He’s the one that tried to help us.”

“But led us right into a trap.” Patton’s suspicious gaze didn’t waver.

The Theorist shifted a bit. “Look, I told Virgil this before, but the future isn’t so clear cut all the time. It was a chance.”

“Maybe next time you should consider all possibilities before endangering people,” he lifted his glasses, his brown eyes swirled into that bright blue, “or there’s a chance you might have a big problem on your hands.”

The Theorist almost knocked down the stool in his attempt to scramble away fast enough. He sputtered, pointing a finger at Patton as he put distance between them. “Y-you’re a -- a --”

Patton dropped his glasses in place. He seemed a bit satisfied with the reaction.

Virgil didn’t understand.

“You’re a Machai elf.” He looked horrified at just saying the name. “Why didn’t you tell me you were friends with a Machai elf?” He leaned over the bar to hiss at Virgil.

“You never asked,” was Virgil’s automatic response. “What’s the big deal? I thought you saw my timeline.”

“I saw  _ glimpses _ I didn’t pick out any details.” He eyed Patton worriedly.

Fair enough. “Well, why does Patton being a Machai elf or whatever make any difference?” He continued his clean up of the shot glasses.

The Theorist gawked at him like he was an idiot. “Do you have any idea what a Machai elf is?” He continued to be flabbergasted after receiving a deadpan expression from Virgil. “Machai elves are some of the deadliest creatures of the magic world. They’re ruthless and intimidating. They don’t back down from a fight and they're trained to kill from birth. They're one of the most notorious elf tribes, how can you not know this?"

Virgil shrugged.

"Ugh, humans. You never bother to ask important questions." He sent another weary glance Patton's way. "I've never heard of one straying away from the tribe, though. Are you the only one?"

Patton scowled. "We're not going to get into that."

The Theorist shut his mouth.

Holy shit. Talk about impressive. "So what's the reason you're here? Other than being afraid of puffball Patton over there."

The Theorist's face twisted at 'puffball' but continued regardless. "Well between  _ your _ anger issues and  _ his _ ability to rip out my spine like a Mortal Kombat finisher, I don't know how eager I am to say anything anymore."

"Oh, come on," Patton said, voice dripping with faux sweetness. "I'm not going to rip out your spine. There are less messy ways of getting rid of you."

"Patton." Virgil couldn't believe he had to use a parent voice on  _ Patton _ of all people.

"I'm kidding. A bit."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Ignore him." He turned all his attention to the Theorist. "He honestly isn't going to do anything to you. Patton's one of the nicest people I know."

The Theorist didn't seem too sure about that.

“If it makes you feel any better, I learned my lesson from last time. I won’t be trying to stab you again anytime soon.”

Patton stared at him in disbelief. “You what?”

“Fine.” The Theorist took a seat but made sure there was enough space between him and Patton. “But the minute any of that changes, I’m running right out of here.”

Virgil rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Just get on with it.”

“So the contract. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since you rather rudely accused me of making it --” he sent a look that Virgil ignored -- “and I managed to narrow it down to a few things. The word ‘contract’ is actually important here. You called it a contract. You didn’t say deal or bargain, you said contract. That helps a lot. It eliminates several creatures like imps and faeries -- which leaves us with things that are capable of creating contracts. That’s obviously the more human things like witches, but it’s also less human things. Things like demons, shadowlings, boogeymen --”

“Boogeyman.” Virgil didn’t hesitate. “It was a boogeyman.”

The Theorist faltered for a moment. “Okay. That makes things a bit more complicated.” He tapped his fingers against the countertop. “Boogeymen are difficult creatures, and every culture has its own interpretation for what they do. Sometimes they’re even considered demons.” His fingers stopped. “But they all have one thing in common. They prey on fear -- they can create it. Depending on the variation, they can even manifest that fear and take it with them.”

“But why?” Patton asked with full sincerity. “Why would -- what does this have to do with a contract?”

“He didn’t want to be there,” Virgil explained. “He said he was bound by a contract.”

“And that wasn’t a figure of speech,” The Theorist continued. “To make a contract with a boogeyman is to literally bind them to you. It makes the contract a million times more effective because the boogeyman won’t be freed unless they complete it. And if you’re going to try to get rid of someone -- and you’re insane enough -- why  _ not _ make a contract with a boogeyman? I mean, at their core, boogeymen are basically ideas.”

Virgil’s throat closed up. “It’s impossible to kill an idea.” He didn’t die. He didn’t die. He didn’t die.  _ He didn’t die. _

“Or at least, the manifestation of an idea is very hard to get rid of. And I think we might all know of someone who’s willing to literally bind a malevolent creature to do his dirty work.” The Theorist stirred a bit in his seat. “And for once, that’s not a theory.”

Patton frowned.

“What would Altair need fears for?” He got away. Virgil let him get away. He fucking let Anxiety complete his contract.

"Just think about it. If you're after someone, you'd want to use their greatest weakness against them. What if you knew what that was? What if you knew what could bring them to their knees -- something they wouldn't win against? Something that strikes them down to their very core? That would be useful, wouldn't it?"

A bit too useful.

The Theorist noticed the expressions on both men’s faces and cleared his throat. “Uh, do with that information as you wish. Unless you need something else, I’m going to get out of here.” He prepared to stand up.

Something switched in Virgil’s brain. “Hypothetically --” he made sure not to look at Patton -- “if someone who wasn’t meant to see into time, uh, happened to see into time, how long would side effects last? If any.”

“Hypothetically --” the Theorist glanced between Patton and Virgil, somehow seeming to put the pieces together -- “that’s an unknown factor. Seers don’t usually force that ability onto someone as it usually results in, uh, bad things. Like losing your mind type of bad things.” Comforting. “But if I had to guess, if someone was capable of handling it, they might get vivid visions of whatever timeline they saw lasting between a few days to a couple of weeks. Though, once again, there’s not much information on it.”

“Alright. That’s an interesting concept.”

“I’d say so,” Patton muttered as he eyed Virgil. He then turned his eyes away and onto the Theorist. “So you’re a Seer, then?”

The Theorist sat up straight. “Uh, yes.”

“Care to tell me my future?”

“Oh, uh,” he shared an uncertain glance with Virgil. “Okay. If you’re sure about it.” He held his hands out, palms up.

Patton placed his hands on top. “I’m fairly certain.”

Virgil tried to pretend he had better things to do while that went on. He didn’t want to draw any attention to them by standing there and staring. What brought him back was the Theorist yanking his hands away as if he had been burned.

He failed to cover up such a reaction. “Is there a specific question you want to be answered?”

Patton clasped his hands together and placed them on his lap. “What’s the ratio of bad to good?”

“Normally, I’d say that’s relative.” He delayed his next sentence. “But I get the feeling I know how you'd perceive it so I'd say it’s mostly bad.”

“What happens in the good parts?”

Once again, he hesitated, but for a different reason. He took a glance around the bar before grabbing the leftover shot glass and turning it over, making the bottom the top. He waved his hands over it. Little moving pictures projected on all sides of the glass. A makeshift crystal ball. "You get a normal life." He placed his hands on the counter. "There will be ups and downs, but you get through all of them. It was a little tricky to see since you spend most of your time as a fusion, but getting passed this stretch of hardships will lead to some of the best moments of your life. You might even consider it a happy ending."

Patton stared at the glass. The little pictures floated around of scenes that had yet to come. A majority of them had Picani rather than Patton himself. "And what of the bad?"

The Theorist's fingers curled up. He swallowed thickly and focused on the glass rather than anyone else.

Virgil put his hand over it. The happy images faded. "I don't think we need to focus on that," he whispered. He knew a lot about those bad timelines. It wasn't anything Patton should see. Especially since in many of them, Logan died in his arms.

Patton's brows knitted together.

"He might be right." The Theorist pulled himself together. "Focusing on the bad parts of a possible timeline tend to create a self-fulfilling prophecy." He fidgeted. “Virgil, can I talk to you outside for a moment?”

“Uh.” Virgil did his best to gauge how much of an effect his absence would have. Eh, it might be fine. “Sure.”

They left a confused Patton to try to figure out the pieces himself.

The moment they stepped outside, the Theorist heaved a sigh as if he had been forced to hold his breath. “And  _ that _ is why I try not to do future readings anymore.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I’ve never seen a future so full of despair. All his timelines are so drastically different! I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“What d’you mean?” Virgil didn’t like how it sounded.

“I mean, normally, someone’s timelines don’t have such intense extremes. Their future is up to them to choose and interpret. Sometimes a minor inconvenience is what they see as devastating. Sometimes finding a dollar on the floor in two months is the best thing to happen to them. That’s all mundane stuff -- stuff I usually see out of many people.” He looked down at his hands and frowned. “All of the bad timelines were so short. If we continue to follow a bad path, he has what -- a few weeks left at most? But in all the good timelines he goes on to be thousands of years old. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“How would that even happen?”

“Because he doesn’t have a choice,” the Theorist snapped.

Virgil’s back straightened, caught completely off-guard by the harsh tone.

A slow realization crossed the Theorist’s face. He sighed and blinked to get rid of the tears in his eyes. “Virgil,” despite speaking to him, he didn’t lift his eyes, “I’ve been able to see into time since I was five. I’m almost five hundred years old now, and I’ve seen some pretty awful things come to fruition -- things I could’ve stopped.” He pressed his back against the wall of the building. “I used to think that time was a straight line. I thought it was something that couldn’t waver from its path. But that’s not true.” He looked right at Virgil. “The future can be bent in any shape you make of it. That’s the beauty of free will. Good and bad futures are interchangeable and any bend you make can bridge the gap between the two.

“But Patton doesn’t have that option. His future is affected by the decisions of others. Where we are now, in this current mess of a timeline, he can’t affect his own future. Not unless we get out of it. But he has no way of getting out of it himself. And that just isn’t fair, is it?” He held such a genuine sincerity in his voice that Virgil wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Promise me you’ll do whatever you can to fix this. I’ll try to help out to the best of my ability, but ultimately it’ll come down to you. You, Roman, and Thomas are the only ones who’ll be there to change anything. Promise you’ll try to do something.”

“I…” That was a rather tall order. The answer was obvious, however. “I promise.”

Virgil didn’t want to talk about the future for the rest of the night.

He would have gotten through with it if it wasn’t for Patton.

The bar closed. They were the only people in the building. Virgil had a few things left to clean up before they could go. He tried to insist that Patton didn’t need to help, but of course, it didn’t work. It always went faster with two people, anyway. It was as they cleaned that Patton decided to bring up a certain topic for discussion.

“Hypothetically --” Virgil’s blood immediately ran cold -- “if someone were to see into time when they weren’t supposed to, they’d tell their friends, right?” Patton stopped and stared right at him. Somehow, it seemed more like a demand than a question. Everything in his expression and posture said that he  _ knew. _

Virgil couldn’t face him. Like a kid that got caught in a lie. “If we’re purely speaking in hypotheticals here, I’d think maybe that person wouldn’t want to say anything about it. Because they wouldn’t want their friends to have that burden.”

“Burdens shouldn’t be carried alone.” With that finalizing statement, he carried on with what he was doing.

Oh, man. Come on! That wasn’t fair. He made it sound so easy. And why the hell did he start sounding so serious today? Throughout the whole exchange with the Theorist, he didn't sound very Patton. It was kinda weird. Virgil decided to do what he did best; deflect the situation. “So, uh, was what the Theorist said true?” He heard Patton stop moving. “About what you are, I mean.”

“You mean how the Machai are emotionless, ruthless creatures?”

“Yeah -- emotionless?” Virgil whipped his head around to look at him.

It seemed that particular statement went ignored. “Most of it was true. The Machai are warriors. I’ve known how to handle a weapon for almost as long as I could walk. I was raised to stay with the tribe -- that all outsiders are bad." He leaned against the edge of a table. "There’s a lot of fighting and killing, and just flat out messy ways of dealing with stuff. But I-I don’t do that anymore. That’s part of the reason I left.”

Well, he didn’t have enough time to unpack all of  _ that.  _ “What’s another part?”

Patton’s whole demeanor changed. His eyes brightened like a warm fire had been lit in them. A soft smile slid onto his face. “Love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't wait for you guys to know how Logan and Patton met. It's so cute. They have my favorite backstory out of everyone tbh


End file.
